The Problem of Being Human
by Djinn1
Summary: Amanda's world and marriage were secure until her son decided to go to Gol and abandon his emotions. Spock's decision will have implications that touch many people's lives. In ways expected, and not so. This goes all kinds of ways but not any of my go-to pairings. It's long. It's messy. I hope you like it. Many thanks to CelticMuseBooks for the beta.
1. Chapter 1

The Problem of Being Human

By Djinn

_Chapter 1: Ashes, Ashes We All Fall Down_

_Part 1_

Amanda sat in her study in the embassy, staring at her son, trying to take in his words. "You're doing what?"

"I am going to Vulcan—to Gol, Mother. To study the Kolinahr discipline." He could barely meet her eyes, as if he knew how absurd he sounded.

"Darling, if this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny."

"I am most serious. I feel that it is imperative that I undertake this study.

"This study—don't you mean this purge? Everything emotional. Everything human—and Vulcan—about you. To become some kind of..." She swallowed heavily. "Why would you ever do this? You've been happy aboard the ship. I saw how happy you were."

"That was some time ago."

There was something in his voice, in his eyes. Something broken. "And a captain ago? Kirk's been promoted, Spock. He's busy—that doesn't mean he's forsaken you."

"You have not heard, then?"

"Heard...?"

"He married a colleague in the admiralty. Lori Ciani." The way he said the name—the pain in his voice. She wanted to go to him, to comfort him, but he would no doubt push her away.

"Married? Are you sure?" It seemed so unlikely given the reputation Kirk had.

"Quite. They are both rising stars. The match is quite logical, when assessed without emotion."

"I see." This made no sense. Forget Kirk's reputation—she'd seen the devotion he had for her son. The humor, the warmth. She'd seen Spock fairly basking in it.

"He has not told me himself about this. I heard it from Doctor McCoy."

That bothered her even more. Since when couldn't the great James T. Kirk handle his own messy business? "That doesn't mean he's forgotten you."

"We have both been on Earth for sixty-seven days. We have barely spoken."

"Oh, Spock. He's probably just getting used to being one of the big brass. This is no reason to run off to Gol."

"It is every reason, Mother. You have no idea what I have endured these last years. The things I have done. The emotion I have...suffered."

She tried not to think that was a slap at her. "Your father has emotions as all Vulcans do. He simply finds a way to manage them."

"He has the luxury of being a full Vulcan."

This time the slap was unmistakable; did he think it was her fault he was facing this? How dare he? His human part was half of what made him so remarkable. "Sybok was a full Vulcan, but he embraced his goddamn emotions."

"Anger. So typical." His tone was full of the haughty condemnation she'd endured from T'Pau and others when she first took up with Sarek—while he was still bonded to Sybok's mother T'Mela. But Spock's eyes were all too human in the way they were pleading. As if he wanted her approval—to what? Forget he ever loved her? Throw everything good and human about himself away?

"Spock, please." She did get up, did try to hold him, but he stepped back. "My dearest, dearest boy, please talk to your father if I can't convince you. He's no advocate of Gol."

"I have already told him."

And Sarek hadn't told her? She might have stopped this before Spock had put too much emotion—too much intention—into this. But her husband hadn't even warned her.

"I do not think he thought I was serious, but you are right: he opposed my going."

Which would only make her obstinate son all the more determined to go. Damn Sarek for not telling her.

She pushed down her fear, her panic, and even her love, channeling every bit of logic she could draw on. "This is a drastic step, Spock. There are other ways. Retreats where you can refresh and meditate. Where you can move on without discarding everything you've worked for. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. There are others who would welcome a relationship with you. That nice Nurse Chapel, for instance. It was clear she cared for you."

A look she couldn't read crossed his face. "Christine is...a woman of fine character. But I do not—she is not..."

"Jim. She's not Jim. Did you tell him? Did you tell him how you feel?" She tried to cup his cheek, to let him feel her regret and her probably too-desperate love, but he jerked away.

"Yes, I took your advice. I told him. Just before he left. So he would have time to think without my presence influencing his decision. This, then, was his answer—to marry another. It is a rebuke, Mother. It is exactly that. And I was foolish to think it would be different. He has never... I have made overtures—subtle, but if he had wanted..."

"Then he's the fool, Spock, not you."

"That is not comforting. Not at all." He moved closer and touched her arm gently, but on the fabric of her robe, not her flesh. No feelings to overwhelm him. "Of all the emotions I have encountered, yours were the most pure. If I forget—if I cannot return them—it is not because I do not care for you now. I do. I will just...be different."

"Spock, please don't do this."

"I must, Mother. I must." He leaned in, laying his lips on her cheek the way he used to, when he was a child. "I love you."

Then he was gone.

She stood frozen for a moment, then pulled out her communicator, ordered one of the embassy's official flitters, and drew whatever dignity around her that she could before she hurried—in a way befitting the wife of the ambassador—out of their personal quarters and past Sarek's assistant.

The flitter was waiting outside and she told the onboard nav system, "Starfleet Command," then sat motionless on the ride over, afraid if she didn't contain her rage and panic and anguish with absolute stillness, it would overwhelm her.

She flashed her credentials at the guard, and could see his surprise, but she was on the approved visitor list from some prior meeting she'd attended with Sarek, and he finally waved her through. But once she got inside, she was lost.

Where the hell was James T. Kirk's office? She could feel herself panicking and fought for control. "Excuse me," she said to a passing woman.

The brunette turned and smiled. "Amanda?"

For a moment, Amanda didn't recognize her. Then she thanked whatever God looked out for desperate mothers. "Nurse Chapel—Christine, how wonderful that it's you. I need to find Captain—Admiral Kirk. It's really quite an emergency." She could hear the near hysteria in her voice and tried to dial it down.

"Okay, come on. I uh...I don't know where his office is exactly, but I know the general area, and we'll figure out the rest as we go." She was gentle as she touched Amanda's elbow, steering her in the opposite direction she'd been headed—gentle and wonderfully incapable of reading what she was feeling. "Can you tell me what's wrong? It's not Sarek, is it?"

"No, it's Spock. Darling, please, no more questions. Just help me." Why couldn't her son have fallen in love with this gentle woman instead of Kirk? He never would have had to wonder if he was cared for. "Am I taking you away from something important?"

"I was just grabbing some food for home. We residents live on take-out. No one wants to cook after a shift."

"Oh, you're a doctor now?"

"Yep. Newly minted."

"Congratulations." They stepped into a lift and she closed her eyes for a moment, then said, "He's leaving."

"Kirk is?"

"No, Spock. It's why I have to find Kirk. He can stop him. Only he can."

"Okayyy." Christine sounded confused, but led her quickly down a new hallway as soon as the doors opened.

The corridors were a maze, but Christine kept saying "Admiral Kirk?" at the officers they passed and following the direction they pointed. Finally one of the people she asked, a young man with a New England accent that reminded Amanda of home, said, "I'll take you. But I don't think he's here."

No. He had to be here.

Another officer shook her head at the young man when they finally made it to Jim's office. "He's on his honeymoon."

"His honeymoon?" Christine frowned. "Who the hell did he marry?"

"Admiral Ciani, Doctor. Not that it's any of your business." The woman looked at Amanda. "And you are?"

"Too late." She could barely breathe.

"Is she all right?" The woman was rising.

Christine motioned her back. "I've got it. Sorry to have bothered you." She asked Amanda softly, "Can anyone else help? I can take you to them."

"No," she said as she followed Christine and the young man who'd helped them out of the room. "It's all ruined."

"Ma'am, can I call someone for you?" The young man was as gentle as Christine. Such sweet people in this place that had destroyed her son. That killed the best parts of him: the parts that could feel, both human and Vulcan.

"I'll take her. It's fine. Thank you." Christine led her back to the lobby. "I don't understand anything except that you're hurting."

"So human of me to do that." Spock might blame her for his human tendencies, but it was as likely he'd have fallen in love with Kirk if he'd been a full Vulcan. After all, Sarek had fallen in love with her. She wondered if that was what Spock was thinking, that being human or Vulcan was a life sentence for the kind of pain that only loving someone could bring. So he would become neither. The Kolinahr masters, with their machine-like serenity, gave her the creeps and now her son would be one of them.

Christine sat with her. "How can I help?"

She gave a helpless shrug, then a nearly hysterical laugh started to come out of her. "Can you go seduce my son? I mean now, right now."

Christine turned red. "I'm sure I could try, but he doesn't want me. So it won't do any good." Her eyes were full of compassion. "Please, let me help you."

"I need to go back to the Embassy." But the idea of that—to have to hide how much pain she was in—undid her.

"I can go with you, if you want—make sure you get there, to Sarek."

"You don't have to." Shit, she was crying. She dashed the tears away, trying to make sure no one saw her breaking down. "And Sarek won't be available. He's in meetings. They last forever."

"Is there anyone else there who you can cry with? Because you're shaking and I think you need to let go."

"No. I'm the wife of the Vulcan ambassador. My behavior has to be above reproach. My...control." She could hear her voice, how distant she sounded. "My control—I hate it." She closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing, trying to reach for the control she really did hate at this moment.

But it was useless. "I need a fucking drink. Now."

Christine laughed softly, a bittersweet note in the sound, as if she understood how close Amanda was to breaking down. "My place, then. I have lots to drink. And no one to judge."

"You don't have to. Sarek will worry once he gets out of his meetings and doesn't find me there."

"I'll comm him. He'll come."

How did this woman know that? Her husband would come—might already be feeling that she needed him—but most humans would never understand his love for her. How much he cared. The lengths he would go to make her happy.

Except for telling her that their son was throwing everything away. Had he really thought Spock was...joking? Being dramatic?

Damn him!

"Unless this is about the two of them. I remember he and Spock..."

She laughed. "For once Spock's actions have very little to do with his father." She sighed heavily. "I have a flitter. You won't have to walk."

"That's great but can you wait while I grab some food?"

"Of course." She looked, really looked at Christine. How tired she seemed. How this must be the time of day she looked forward to. No one at her, needing her. "Oh, darling, no. I can go back to the embassy. I'm ruining your—"

"Amanda, stop. You're coming back with me. All right?" She was fierce, her hand tight on her shoulder. So comforting, so free with her emotions.

"Yes, dear. Yes."

"I'll be right back. Do you want anything?"

"No." Amanda leaned back in the chair, exhausted now that nothing more could be done. "I'll just wait here. Take your time, my dear. There's no rush anymore."

No rush at all. She could sit here, heart breaking slowly with each passing minute, all goddamned night.

Her Spock was gone.

##

Sarek was trying and failing to focus on the status reports the members of his team were relaying because Amanda's distress was pounding at him through the bond. As soon as all sections were accounted for, he stood, and said, "We will table the rest until tomorrow."

It was unlike him to cut a meeting short, and the others looked surprised but not overly concerned. They would no doubt think he had been called to Federation Headquarters or had an important comm scheduled with Vulcan. It would never occur to them he might shirk his duty for purely personal reasons.

He found his assistant and said softly, "Where is my wife, T'Sanya?"

"She left, sir. Right after your son did."

"My son was here?" He held back a sigh. "Is he still here?"

"No, sir. He asked me to give you this."

It was written on the most simple of Vulcan papers, in script Spock had once struggled to master. _I know you do not approve. Nevertheless I have proceeded and been accepted to petition for mastery of Kolinahr. I begin my journey now. Live long and prosper, Father._

Sarek again had to bite back a sigh. One born of both pain that his son had said goodbye to his mother in person but had not paid him the same courtesy, and of frustration that he had gone ahead with this. Always so obstinate.

Gol was no place for him, no solution for what ailed him. Sarek was no stranger to romantic discord—his first wife and he had enjoyed little peace. But seeking to purge his emotions over one man's defection—even if Spock had not couched it in that manner—was ill advised and impulsive.

Always he had been this way. Say to go right and he jumped left. Generally without looking.

Sarek had been a fool to think that telling him Gol was an inappropriate choice would be the end of it.

And he had not told Amanda what Spock had in mind. He could feel anger mixing with the distress. Anger that felt more like fury than simply aggravation.

He had not thought Spock would go through with it. So few Vulcans did. Why would his son be one of them?

But Spock was gone and he could do nothing more for him. Amanda, however, was a different matter.

"Do you know where my wife went?" he asked T'Sanya.

"She took a flitter." She pulled up the records. "Starfleet Command and now...it appears to be a residential building."

"The Visiting Officer's Quarters?" Perhaps she had gone after Spock. One last effort to change his mind. Amanda was nothing if not persistent.

"No, sir. And I can't get more for you—she's prevented it from being logged." There was disapproval in her voice.

It was not her place to pass judgment on his wife even if this was worrying. "Thank you," he said brusquely, as if he was unconcerned with his wife's actions.

Then he made his way to their quarters and pulled out his private communicator, hitting the key combo that would dial Amanda.

A moment later, a woman whose voice he did not recognize answered. "Hello?"

"Who is this? Why are you on my wife's communicator?"

"Ambassador, it's Christine Chapel. I'm not sure if you remember me. I served with your son on the _Enterprise_."

"And took most excellent care of me, Nurse Chapel." Why would Amanda be with her?

"I'm flattered you remember. And it's Doctor Chapel now, actually."

"Doctor." He felt a moment of panic that a doctor had been needed. "My wife—is she ill? Injured?"

"Not exactly. Can you come to my place?" An address appeared on the text screen. "I've set the outside door for you so you won't have to bother buzzing to get in."

"Can you not tell me what this is about?"

"A broken heart, I think. Please just come." She cut the connection with no further comment, a move that surprised him. It was so...Vulcan.

He walked back out to T'Sanya and said, "Please clear my calendar." It was a light day fortunately. "I do not know when I will be back."

"Do you wish me to order a flitter for you?"

"No, I will walk." Chapel's apartment was very close to the embassy. The walk took him no time and he passed several people who stared at him. The city was full of tourists who had probably never seen a Vulcan outside of photos or vids. And certainly not one hurrying as he was, his robe billowing slightly as he strode, his face set in a stern mask that said as clearly as he could without words: "Get out of my way."

He turned at Chapel's apartment, palmed his way into the building, then took the elevator to the third floor. The building was modest, no doorman, no concierge. He realized that even as a doctor she was still at best a lieutenant, and San Francisco was an expensive city for junior officers.

She was waiting at the door to her apartment, and he realized he must have triggered an alert of some sort when he palmed the door. She gestured for him to come in, and he did, walking slowly now, unsure what he would see.

He did not expect it to be his wife asleep on the couch, a light blanket covering her. He took in the empty wineglass and nearly empty bottle in front of her, another glass half full in front of a chair where Chapel had no doubt been sitting. "Please explain."

"I ran into her at Command. She was looking for Admiral Kirk. Something about Spock leaving. She...she didn't tell me much. But Kirk is out of town, and she was so upset, and she said she needed a drink, and well, that's a really tasty wine." She had the grace to look chagrined.

"Do you not have antitox?"

She met his eyes. "I do. But why disturb her? Let her have some peace. I can give her antitox when she wakes up."

He exhaled—loudly, to his dismay.

"Do _you_ need a drink, Ambassador?"

"I do not." He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling as if his son had once again made the footing under his feet less secure. It would no doubt shock Spock to know he had that much power over him. "Please, call me Sarek. It seems odd to stand on ceremony when my wife is not even on her feet."

Chapel laughed softly. "All right, Sarek. Would you like something less alcoholic to drink?"

"Tea perhaps—if you have it."

"I have lots of it. I spent time in the Far East when I was a kid. I learned to love tea. But I'm afraid most of mine has caffeine. No herbal tisanes in this kitchen."

He shrugged, not caring at this point.

"I have a lovely oolong. Very soothing. Please, sit. And you can call me Christine if you're comfortable being as informal as you said I could be." She went into the kitchen and he sat at the counter, glancing over at Amanda occasionally, who did look quite peaceful.

He expected efficiency, but Christine pulled out some kind of mesh basket that hooked over the side of the mug and put loose tea in it, then added water that was cooler than what he normally saw humans use, more the temperature of water for the Vulcan tea ceremony. "You take your tea quite seriously."

She laughed. "I do. You're lucky I didn't pull out the gongfu-cha set." The tea did not steep long and she handed it to him. "Baozhong. Used to be you could hardly find it outside Taiwan. It's one of my favorites."

"Most kind." He was not sure what more to say. He was used to commanding a negotiation; this...this he was not certain how to play.

She broke the silence. "Sarek, it's none of my business what's going on but...what's going on?"

He made a great show of taking in the aroma of the tea, which was lovely, as he decided how much he would tell her. Finally, he said, "My son has elected to pursue a Vulcan discipline that will purge him of all emotion. His mother and I are opposed to this course of action. I, for more intellectual reasons. She—she takes it more personally, as you have no doubt seen."

"And she needed Kirk to stop him?" She suddenly laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "Well, I guess that old question is finally answered. Were they or weren't they?" She frowned. "And why is he now on his honeymoon? Or is that why Spock wants to ditch his emotions?"

He did not expect her to grasp the situation so fully. "I have perhaps already said too much."

"Maybe." She took a long breath and let it out slowly, as if she was releasing something. "Kinda makes me feel better. Who can compete with the golden boy?" She laughed—again a bitter puff of air rather than true amusement.

He was unsure how to follow that.

She finally asked, "You like the tea?"

He sipped it. "It is delicious. Thank you."

She yawned and he wondered how long she had been up—new doctors often worked punishing hours. "We are intruding. It is time for me to take my wife home."

Although this reprieve from her emotional distress was agreeable.

"I'll wake her for you." She walked to the couch, kneeling, her voice low and kind—he remembered that from his time in sickbay.

Amanda came awake slowly and didn't appear to notice him. "You're such a sweet girl. My son's an idiot to not want you." She grinned and cupped Christine's cheek, their faces very close. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Christine seemed uncertain what to do, so Sarek said, "I am here, my wife."

Immediately he could feel the anger rise—strong enough to come through the connection they had from the bond. But she did not show the anger to Christine.

"So you are, my husband. He's a fine figure of a man, isn't he, darling? Striking, really. Especially that beautiful noble nose."

Chapel grinned at him in an apologetic way he found charming. "Yes, an excellent nose."

"Don't you think she's nice, darling? Shouldn't Spock have chosen her? Isn't our son an idiot?"

He did not think it wise to agree with anything except the first part of her declarations. "Christine is, indeed, most kind."

"Awww, you called her by her name. He must feel comfortable with you." Her words were light; the emotion he was feeling through the bond was anything but.

"I made him tea."

Amanda laughed. "I seriously doubt that's why he's comfortable with you, my darling." She sat up. "Okay, who's going to give me some antitox?"

"I am." Christine got up and pulled a bottle out of a desk drawer. A very large bottle. As his eyebrow went up, she glared at him and said, "What? Med school was stressful. Residency still is." Then she shook out a pill and handed it to Amanda. "Fast acting. Just put it under your tongue."

"You think I don't know how antitox works? I know it's hard to believe, but I've been a naughty girl once or twice in my life, haven't I, Sarek?"

He was debating whether to answer when her expression changed. The alcohol-induced good humor fell from her, and she was left where she had started: in grief. A grief that pounded at him far more than her anger had.

She closed her eyes, swaying a little, and Christine was quick to reach out and steady her.

"Go slow. It's okay."

Amanda clutched her for a moment, whispering something he could not make out. Christine looked at him almost helplessly.

"I will take her." He finished his tea—it was, indeed, delicious, and gave him a moment to compose himself before what would no doubt be an emotional barrage as soon as he touched his wife—and walked to her, taking her arm, easing her toward the door. "If you ever have need of me, Christine, I am at your service. Please forgive us for disturbing you."

"It was no bother, Sarek. Honestly, it was nice to be needed."

He met her eyes, struck by what a brilliant blue they were. "Your desire to help speaks volumes about your character."

Amanda turned to look at her. "I wouldn't have made it through the day without you. Maybe...we could have lunch sometime?"

"I don't really get much time off during the day." Her tone made it sound like the truth, not a polite evasion.

"Then dinner. I feel...close to you, Christine. You made me feel safe."

He knew his wife rarely admitted weakness. Clearly, Christine's assistance did mean much to her. "At the embassy, even," he said. "Perhaps you could bring more of that tea?"

She grinned. "I could do that. Happy to have made a convert." She yawned, then immediately apologized.

"Get some rest, darling. We've taken enough of your time." Amanda smiled gently, then pulled away from Sarek, somehow drawing the grace and serenity she always presented to the world around her despite the anguish and rage he could feel growing though the bond.

##

Amanda followed Sarek into the flitter she'd never sent back to the embassy, not looking at him as he told the nav system where to take them.

She stared out the window once he sat back, eased her hand away so there would be no skin-to-skin contact.

The silence was horrible, but she refused to be the one to break it. Blinking back tears, she tried to take her mind to some calm, blank spot.

But all she could see was Spock.

But perhaps he wouldn't be accepted. This was just the petitioning stage. Many were deemed unacceptable and turned away. It might kill Spock to be designated that way, but it would be the best thing—the right thing. She closed her eyes and concentrated on that, on making it happen. _Reject him. Reject him. Reject him._

Sarek's voice startled her out of the near trance she was in. "I am perplexed, my wife."

She didn't answer.

"Why go to Doctor Chapel's apartment? Why involve her in this?" He reached over, touching her chin gently, forcing her to look at him. "And why did you not involve me?"

"Oh, that's rich." She didn't try to hold back her anger and saw him recoil at the surge of rage that no doubt reached him through his fingers, through the bond, through the fact that they just knew each other too damn well for him not to feel it. "Sharing information would have been a great idea for you too. But no. Why in God's name wouldn't you have told me Spock was considering Gol? You know I hate those...automatons."

"That is precisely why I did not tell you. I did not believe he was serious and did not wish to spark a conflict between you and him based on how you view the practitioners of Kolinahr."

"So this is my fault?"

He actually sighed. "I did not say that, Amanda. It is no one's fault—except perhaps Spock's."

"No, it's that damned admiral's fault, that's whose it is. I hate Kirk. I hate him for not having the balls to just tell Spock he didn't want him. They served together for so long. Why couldn't he at least have talked to him?" She touched his hand. "Why couldn't he have loved our son?"

"I do not know." He squeezed her hand, his gaze so full of pain and compassion she wanted to pull him to her, but her anger kept her from doing it. "I regret I did not tell you. Perhaps—perhaps if I had, you could have stopped him."

"We'll never know now." She swallowed hard and went back to looking out the window. Taking up her silent chant—trying to make it a spell, even if she didn't believe in such things.

_Reject him. Reject him. Reject him._

##

A few weeks after she'd helped Amanda, Chapel was in the officer's lounge with several other doctors, celebrating that they were all about to have a couple days off, when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

She turned and saw Kirk. "Oh, hello, sir."

"Call me Jim, Christine. Jeez." He sounded like he'd been drinking. He wasn't loudmouthed "Do something crazy" drunk but well past his first drink.

Then again she wasn't exactly sober herself, so who was she to judge? "Okay. Jim."

"Word is you were looking for me."

"Actually I wasn't. Amanda was."

His expression changed immediately and became less open. Wary, even. "Ah, so that's who the woman my aide couldn't recognize was."

She waited, not sure what to do with that.

Finally he leaned in, having to talk louder as a group two tables down got increasingly raucous. "So what did she want?"

"Can we go outside for a sec?" She gestured toward the balcony where it was quieter, and he nodded and followed her out.

"Congrats, by the way. On your M.D." He sounded sincere; he'd given her a great recommendation when she'd left the ship.

"Thank you." She led him toward a quiet spot and said, "It was about Spock."

"Well, I didn't think she came to ask me how _I_ was." He sounded on edge, in a way Chapel hadn't seen before. Other than when he'd been split into two people. Snappy, almost vicious.

Or maybe she was just reading into it. It wasn't like she and this man were friends, despite how long she'd served with him.

"So how is Spock?" His tone was sarcastic "Let me guess—he's with you?"

"No, he's not with me. He's not with anyone. Do you not know?" She watched what seemed like honest bafflement play out on his face.

"Know what?"

"He's gone. He went to some place where Vulcans purge all emotions. The Spock we know..." She didn't understand any of this. Had pieced together what she could from what Amanda had told her—or more accurately mumbled while she was transitioning from drunk to passed out.

But she did know the rumors. How close this man and Spock were. How much they'd do for each other. The obvious bond.

And yet Kirk was married to some Admiral.

And Spock had...fled.

Was this man to blame for that? She'd seen how many women he'd been with over the years. Knew his reputation.

But she also knew a little of the real man. The guy who clearly...loved Spock.

Nothing made any sense, and she just wanted to go back to her group and finish celebrating and then go sleep for fifteen hours. "Maybe you should go see Amanda."

"Yeah." He turned.

"Maybe you should sober up first." She dug in her pocket, but he laughed bitterly and pulled out a container of antitox.

"Not fast enough, Doctor. And I need this way too often." He studied her. "But then you don't care how much I hate my life right now, do you?"

She had no idea how to answer that. "I'm sorry," she finally settled on saying.

"Yeah, you and me both." He slipped a tablet under his tongue then hurried off.

She stood a moment, watching him leave, then heard a voice behind her. "Do I want to know why my husband fled right after coming out here to be alone with you?" The words were accusatory, but the tone amused. "He tells me to meet him here then leaves before I can even say hello. Men."

Chapel turned and saw a petite brunette studying her. "Admiral Ciani?"

"Right in one. Buy that girl a drink." She sat in one of the deck chairs, crossed one leg over the other, and sipped her drink—something clear with a lime. "So... Where'd Jim go?"

Chapel was too tired to try to lie to this woman. "The Vulcan embassy. Something to do with the ambassador—his family."

"That's discretion of the first order. I like you." She laughed softly, her smile almost as charming as Kirk's could be. "You can call me Lori, and you are...?"

"Chapel. Doctor. Christine. I uh, I was a nurse on the _Enterprise_." She was stammering like some rank ensign. "Sorry. It's been a long day."

"Not so long you can't still lie with distinction. Or misdirect, rather. Did Jim go to see Spock? He is, after all, part of the ambassador's family."

"No. Spock's not there."

Lori's lips went up on one side. "Not lying to me now, are you? We both know Spock is far, far away. Jim doesn't, though." She took a deep breath. "He's going to be no fun to live with when he comes back. Have you ever deeply regretted a marriage, Christine?"

"No, but I've deeply regretted throwing my career away by chasing after a fiancé who turned out to be not what I thought."

Lori laughed again, a truly amused sound that made Chapel smile. "I _really_ like you. Why has he never mentioned you to me? I hear about all his crew when he gets nostalgic drunk. But not you."

That didn't surprise her. "I left."

"Ah. Cardinal sin."

It was Chapel's turn to laugh. "It was for med school, not because I was unhappy. He understood."

"I'm sure he did. Probably gave you a glowing recommendation. Doesn't mean he'll ever forget you didn't want to stay." She leaned in. "He's a walking contradiction, our Jim. Wants to progress. Wants to stay on the ship. Thinks his crew should stay together. Wants them promoted despite them doing the same thing for fucking ever. And the amazing thing is so many of them are staying on for Decker." She seemed to be studying Chapel. "You know him?"

"I do. He's a good man."

"He is. We like him, up where the brass live." She smiled in a way Chapel couldn't read. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Oh, my friends have—" She looked into the room. Her friends were gone and the table had been cleared. "Uh, yeah. I guess you can."

"I want to know all about you." Lori took her arm. "And I want to hear stories about Jim no one else knows."

Chapel laughed as if she was going to comply—she had a feeling no one ever told this woman "No" successfully—but she didn't think she was going to tell her anything she didn't already know about Kirk. She hadn't been that close to him, and she still felt loyalty to him, even if he had been her competition for Spock's heart.

##

Amanda steeled herself as she walked down the stairs and to her office. Normally, she would have invited Kirk into the salon Sarek and she used with personal friends and acquaintances where they could relax, but she didn't want Sarek to hear, or worse jump into this conversation. They might be united in thinking Spock had made a mistake in going to Gol, but that was about all they agreed on right now.

She didn't want him even knowing about it until she told him—just like she hadn't known about Spock.

She slowed her breath, trying to bite back the anger that seemed to fill her more and more. She could feel Sarek's aggravation through the bond. Their connection had been such a comfort to her before Spock left. Would it be again?

Did she care if it wouldn't—if her anger destroyed it?

Her office—all the offices—were extraordinarily well soundproofed to give embassy personnel privacy from each other's keen ears. She would be safe here. Safe to be as human as she wanted. She took a deep steadying breath, then opened the door.

Kirk stood when she entered. She decided not to tell him to sit—let him wait for her to get comfortable before he took his seat again. The rage—or maybe it was hatred at this point—she felt for this man was manageable only if she let it out in small ways, took petty victories. And for once she could take them out on him, not on her husband and those around her.

"What can I do for you, Admiral?" She sounded Vulcan. God knew she'd worked hard at that over the years.

"Spock."

She cocked her head and studied him. Did he really think one word—her lost son's name—would move her now?

Now that he was well and truly gone. He'd commed four days after she'd gone to Starfleet Command. He'd been accepted into the initial level of instruction, the first steps taken into the discipline. He'd already sounded so distant. He hadn't apologized, hadn't tried to make her feel better.

He wasn't Human—or Vulcan anymore really. He might as well be a computer. Inputs and outputs and logic with nothing to temper it.

Now this man wanted to...what? Fix it? Two weeks later? Spock still might be rejected during the process, but he would never leave of his own accord. She knew her son too well to hope that he might change his mind.

Kirk began to shift a little, and she felt a mean little thrill of victory at making the great captain uncomfortable. She finally asked, "What about Spock?"

"Christine said he was...gone? That you needed me—how can I help?" He leaned in, smiling gently, and she knew he was turning on his famous Kirk charm.

She used to feel warmed by it, by him. Now...now despite the white-hot rage that seemed to fill her all the time, she felt as if she were freezing inside. As if she, too, were at Gol. "He's gone, I understand I have you to thank for that."

The charm died, and he sat back and studied her the same way she had him. "You understand nothing."

"He loved you." She fairly spat it at him, her voice raised and she could see the surprise in his face. "This room is soundproofed. We can speak plainly, Admiral. He loved you and you—"

"And I loved him. He was like my brother. My best friend. My trusted second. My touchstone. But lover? He sprang that on me, Amanda. One moment he's my first officer and the next he's talking about forever. About...loving me. About plans he'd made—and I had no say. He got there in his solitary logical way and never thought to make it less...unilateral. To let me..." He sighed and shook his head as he trailed off. "He just sprang it on me."

She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but there was something in his voice. Lost and defeated. But not guilty. He believed what he said. "You couldn't have grown to love him? We both know Vulcans are impetuous at times. They process things outside of the partnership. It may seem sudden, but they've been considering options for some time."

"He was also adrift. No ship. No familiar crew. He didn't like his assignment—or his new boss. I wasn't sure how much was really about me and how much was him grabbing for something familiar because he was unhappy." He closed his eyes.

"So you went and married someone else just in case it was the latter?"

He leaned forward, took her hands, and she wished she was Vulcan, so she could read him. "My relationships haven't worked in the past. I have a son I'm not allowed to see because of that. His mother was a woman I considered my other half, my soulmate—physically and mentally. But it...ended. They all end. And the friendships end with the romance. Spock was too important to me to risk it. I thought if I just gave him time..."

She let her eyebrow go up in a perfect imitation of a Vulcan. "You mean your marriage isn't real?"

"It's...strategic. For both of us. But I doubt either of us will renew after the year is out."

"And they say romance is dead." She tried to stare at him the way Vulcans used to stare at her, as if she was lower than the bugs that crawled beneath their feet.

"I do miss him, Amanda. I just wanted to give us all time."

"You fool. You fucking fool."

He looked as shocked as she'd ever seen him. Did he think she didn't swear? In private, in her head, in her dreams even? "I did what I thought best." Now he sounded angry—but guilt did that. Sarek often sounded angry with her when he couldn't explain why he hadn't told her about Spock's plans and she wouldn't let it go.

"He's gone, Admiral. The man you love is gone. The son I love is gone. He's never coming back."

"I could go there."

"They won't let you in. They wouldn't even let me in, if I went. And what would you do if you did get in?"

"Try to explain. He never let me explain."

"Well, no, when the man you loves marries someone else after finding out the truth of your feelings, one tends not to stick around." She got up, suddenly unable to stay still, and frustrated because it had been easier to hate this man—to channel all her anger at him—before he came to talk to her.

Now she could see how much he cared.

Now she could see the panic growing in his eyes.

She walked to him and touched his cheek—his oh-so-human skin. "He's gone, Jim. He's not coming back. There's nothing any of us can do."

He shook his head. "He just needs time—we just needed time."

"Time's up." She turned on her heel and left him sitting there. He was a capable Starfleet officer; he could find his own damn way to the exit.

She pulled out her communicator, called for a flitter, and had it go to Christine's apartment, but she didn't answer the intercom.

"Instructions?" the flitter's nav system asked when she climbed back in.

"Golden Gate Park."

"More specificity is required. Please state desired activity so optimum disembarkation site may be calculated.

She closed her eyes. "Just take me to the fucking park."

There was no response as the nav system searched. "I do not understand that activity. Please restate."

She had to fight the urge to beat on the console. It would not do for the wife of the ambassador to be seen exercising undo emotion. She wanted to drink—to get rollicking drunk and have Christine take care of her again—but that wasn't going to happen. She could go to a bar, but someone might recognize her. It might be embarrassing for Sarek if she got too drunk, if she said something untoward. She hadn't felt this constricted since she'd first gone to live on Vulcan.

She had nowhere to turn. "Take me back to the embassy."

"Affirmative."


	2. Chapter 2

The Problem of Being Human

By Djinn

_Chapter 1, Part 2_

Sarek watched as Amanda moved things around on the dinner table. She seemed to be studiously avoiding looking at him.

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

"Why would I be nervous?" But she persisted in rearranging things that were arranged sufficiently to begin with. "Christine doesn't make me nervous."

It had taken three months to find a date that worked for both them and Christine, but finally they were repaying her kindness. And Sarek was relieved that it was happening now because he thought Amanda might need the additional support. They should be hearing soon whether Spock would be fully accepted in his pursuits of Kolinahr or if he would be designated unsuitable.

Sarek was not given to wishing for things that might not occur, but in this case he found himself hoping that Spock would wash out. Not just so their son could live what Sarek thought would be a better life, outside of that discipline. But for his own and Amanda's sake.

Things were tense. But the reactions, the angry retorts, the sarcasm that he liked less and less—all were highly variable. There were times he still felt as if his wife...liked him. Tonight, however, wasn't one of them.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Amanda rushed to get it. "Oh, darling. Finally."

"I come bearing the Malbec you liked." Christine walked in, dressed casually, and handed a bottle of wine to Amanda. Then she turned and offered the tea to him. "And also oolong."

"Bless you, my child."

He echoed his wife with "Most kind."

As Christine got settled, he studied her, seeing the woman his son rejected for a man who ran from him. She was kind and intelligent. Attractive and vital.

As always, he did not understand his son's choices.

Amanda poured glasses of wine for herself and Christine. She did not ask him if he wanted anything, and he thought that was not lost on their guest. Without comment, he rose and poured himself a glass of water, sipping it and letting Amanda guide the conversation.

A conversation that seemed designed to leave him out as she practically quizzed Christine on fashionable activities and media, clothing and makeup.

Christine glanced at him from time to time and he kept his eyes soft. She was clearly reading that something was wrong, but when he gave her the most gentle gaze he was capable of, she seemed to throw herself into the conversation with gusto.

It was good to see Amanda laugh. She no longer did around him. Not like this.

But the more the wine flowed, the more her laughter took on a brittle note. He was relieved when the food arrived and they could talk about other things.

"Christine, you were engaged, weren't you?" Amanda's tone was the kind that meant he would not like where she was going with the question.

"I was."

"What's your view on honesty?"

Christine glanced at him.

"I'm sorry. Do you need to look at my husband to answer the question?"

"No. It's just... It's good, I guess. Honesty." She exhaled raggedly. "Are you asking me what happened to Roger?" She appeared extremely uncomfortable.

And Amanda seemed to sense it as well. "Oh, goodness no, dear. I know. He was lost." She reached for Christine's hand. "I'm sorry. I'm so on edge." She glanced at Sarek. "I'm—we're waiting to hear if Spock has made it past a significant milestone in his studies. And it's killing me."

"The majority of candidates do not progress," he offered into the silence.

"I hope...I hope that he doesn't, then. It seems like that would be best for so many people." Then Christine looked down. "Except, maybe, him. I mean if this is what he wants...? I'm sorry. I know that's not what you want to hear."

"I believe we know where she stands on honesty, my wife."

"It's just...he tends to do things with his whole heart." Christine blushed. "Not his heart—so un-Vulcan, that idea. His energy, his focus."

"Sarek understood you. And my son's half human. I'm sure his 'heart' is one of his failings, isn't that so, my husband?"

"I have never considered it so." He tried to make his voice as tender as possible. "He is a fusion of both of us."

"Not if he continues. He'll be all Vulcan." She drained her glass. "Christine, I can open another bottle. I've got a lovely cabernet."

"Not for me."

"Let me guess. You want some of that tea you brought. I've never been much of a tea drinker. Another failing, no doubt. Give me a good strong cup of coffee." She looked at both of them as if she was daring them to comment.

"Coffee is life in my profession," Christine said with a graceful smile. "Have you tried the new bakery near Command? Their coffee is so good."

"I have."

As they began to name favorite pastries, he felt more at ease, grateful that Christine had steered them to less precarious conversational ground.

He relaxed, but not entirely. Amanda was unpredictable right now. He had expected time to make things better, not worse. In the past, when she had been aggravated with him, it had always passed.

But this time was different. If he was honest, he feared Christine was right and dreaded his wife's reaction once word reached them that Spock had been accepted for further study.

Fear and dread were not emotions he was accustomed to. His wife—their bond—had always been his sanctuary. He would give anything for that not to change. Unfortunately, this was not up to him.

##

Chapel was in the cafeteria, trying to select something to take home for dinner, when she heard, "You're here late."

She turned and saw Lori. "You too."

"The price of being indispensible to the head of Fleet Operations. Eat with me? I've earned a short break and company would be more than welcome."

She found herself unable to resist the openness of Lori's smile or the confident way she held herself. It'd be nice to have a friend who wasn't another doctor or a former crewmate—and one this high up? Well, that wouldn't be a bad thing either. "Sure."

She grabbed some noodle soup and a couple of cookies, then joined Lori at a table. The cafeteria was busier than she expected but nowhere near as crowded as during lunch.

"Great dinner choices, Chapel."

She laughed as she saw the much heartier meal Lori had chosen. "I want to go to sleep when I get home. Not be up trying to digest some big ass steak."

Lori bit into her steak and sighed happily. "I skipped lunch. Happens a lot."

"Not to be nosy, but how come your husband isn't here keeping you company?"

"Not to be nosy? You know that's the universal code for 'I'm going to be nosy as shit, so stand back and marvel,' right?" When Chapel laughed and nodded, she said, "And I have no idea where he is. And no desire to find out. His mood these days..." She shook her head.

"Sorry."

"Yeah, well. Marry in haste..."

"But a term marriage, right? So the repent part doesn't apply?"

"Thank all the deities." Lori studied her as if trying to figure out something important.

"What?"

"I don't know how close you and he really are. I don't know if I can open up to you or not. He's never mentioned you. That might mean you're not someone he thinks a lot of—or it might mean the opposite. He's tricky to figure out, and he doesn't always talk about the things that matter most."

"It's the former. Vent away." She concentrated on her soup when Lori didn't start talking, then asked, "Were you in love with him when you got married?"

"Hmmm, good question. Infatuated—mildly. And the sex was amazing. But mostly we offered each other access, you know? He was the golden boy when he came back. Everyone in the 'I got my way to Admiral by captaining a ship' club wanted a piece of him—dinners and parties. And I've got my own series of contacts—people who didn't necessarily come up that way. We doubled our reach—our exposure. It just made sense."

Chapel waited.

"He, uh. He never told me he was in love with someone else. He still hasn't." She seemed to shrug it off, as if it didn't matter or was happening to someone else.

"My fiancé had been engaged, way before I met him. She died in a lab accident. He never really talked about her—you're right that can be a sign of something significant. I didn't realize it back then. But later"—after she and Kirk had escaped the android version of her lover and she'd done some digging to finally look up the woman in his past: a woman named Andrea—"I discovered he'd never let her go. I felt...stupid."

"Not betrayed?"

"I tend to blame myself. I'm too open, sometimes. I believe people. Or I used to. I think I'm getting better at not."

"Yeah, hone that skill—detecting deception. It'll serve you well." She dug into her steak again and they ate in silence for a few minutes. "I don't lie, for whatever that's worth. I say what I mean."

"Okay."

"I could use a friend. Someone who's not...invested in where I am or where I'm going." She met her eyes. "You make me laugh. I don't laugh much anymore."

"Did you before Jim?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"I'm sorry."

"Meh. I ride it out for the rest of the year and then I'm free."

"Well, I'll be happy to be the gal pal who supports you while you ride it out. Unless I'm on shift. Or unconscious. Those seem to be my two ways of being these days."

"We'll always have the officer's club."

Chapel laughed. "And this cafeteria."

"There you go." She looked past Chapel, suddenly seemed to pull everything commanding and aloof around her.

A commander stopped at their table. "Admiral Ciani, I need to talk to you."

"Make an appointment, Styles."

"I did. I just saw you here and thought—"

"That you're more important than whatever Doctor Chapel needed from me?" She arched an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Spock, and Chapel suddenly wondered if that had been part of the attraction for Kirk.

"I'm sure the doctor wont mind if I just—"

Before she could say anything, Lori waved him away with a brusque, "We're done here."

As he walked away—maybe stomped away was more like it—Lori let out a sigh and said, "He's such an idiot. But he's connected and going places. It's criminal."

"I could fail him on a physical." She laughed as she said it and was glad to see Lori grin. "Prescribe something horrible."

"Whatever happened to 'First, do no harm?'"

"Well, when it's for a friend..." She laughed in a way that would tell Lori she was kidding.

"I really like you, Christine. I'm glad I was jealous of my husband talking to you—wouldn't have met you otherwise." She reached over and grabbed one of the cookies. "Friends share."

"Fine, but the next drink's on you."

##

Amanda heard her personal communicator ping and felt rising dread when she saw it was from the Kolinahr Institute. It was addressed to both her and Sarek, but he was in his office.

She could wait—or go to him. They could read it together. In the past, they would have. United to face whatever came.

In the past. When their son had still been the boy she loved.

She opened the message.

_Let it be known that Spock, child of Sarek, child of Skon, child of Solkar, has been accepted to continue study of the discipline of Kolinahr. While we do not encourage pride, we do acknowledge the satisfaction you must derive from his advancement. Only 4.332 percent of petitioners progress to this stage. Peace and long life._

She sat down heavily in the closest chair and closed her eyes.

A moment later, Sarek hurried into their quarters but slowed as he approached her. "You read it?"

"They don't even count me in his lineage."

"They do not count any females. It is not because you are human."

"Yes, because that makes it so much better." She took a deep breath, trying to control the panic that was rising up. "I wanted him to be rejected."

"As did I, Amanda. I wanted it more than anything."

She met his eyes and saw that he wasn't lying, wasn't saying it just to make thing easier between them. "I don't know what to do. What do I do?"

"_We_ will do whatever we must to get through this."

"It's like he's dead, Sarek. How the hell am I supposed to get through that?"

He knelt and pulled her to him and she didn't fight him, but she also didn't nestle against him the way she would have before all this. "My wife. I feel your pain. Can you not feel mine? We share this. We are together."

"Yes. We're together. God help us, we're together." She jerked away. "Chained together, Sarek."

She could feel his pain, but this was a new pain, almost fear. Would he say it? That he feared she'd leave him? Would he just speak his heart?

She started to cry and then forced herself to stop. It would not do. Not in this bastion of logic. Not in this place that thought she should derive satisfaction that her son would soon purge his ability to feel. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and she pulled him to her, rubbing his back, then stroking his hair. "I'm sorry, Sarek. It just hurts so much."

"I know." He buried his face in her robes, holding tightly to her legs as he murmured over and over, "I know."

##

Sarek lay silently in bed, watching Amanda as she slept. He had expected her to process Spock's new situation by now. It had been a month. More than enough time for her to work through this and find a way to manage the new reality. He had been through it many times with her.

But this time she was not managing it. Instead, she had buried it and turned the anger onto him. She carried herself the way she had when she first came to Vulcan with him—as if everyone around her was judging her.

They were not, of course; back then perhaps they had been, but now she was known and respected.

Although he had caught looks lately from the Vulcans in the embassy, questioning, wondering. Probably because she appeared so tense, the easy smile he thought many of them enjoyed gone. The light she'd always brought to any room extinguished.

And she did not want his help. A meld might have soothed her, but she'd refused his offers. He could tell she was not interested in working off her dissatisfaction in a more physical way so he had not tried to initiate sex. And he missed it—he missed her.

She was crucial to him and now he was losing her because of what their son had done.

"Why are you staring at me?" Her tone was wary.

"Because I love you." It was an exceedingly human way to put it, but he thought she needed it. He reached out to stroke her hair.

"It's like a noose. Your love."

He jerked his hand back. "I do not mean for it to be." He tried to read her through the bond, but there was so much negativity, so much pain.

"I know. I'm sorry." She slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom. He heard the shower running—was it to hide the sound of tears? Or was it to hide the fact that she was not crying?

He waited for her to finish, then showered and prepared for his day. By the time he joined her in the breakfast nook, she had clearly drunk two cups of coffee already if the level of the pot was any indication.

Before he could say anything, she rose and began to pace. The level of agitation battering him through the bond left him unable to settle—something he was not accustomed to.

Her emotions had always been present, but in a pleasant way. Never as such a hindrance. "My wife, please sit down."

"Don't. Don't 'my wife' me right now."

"Amanda, please. Sit down and talk to me."

She finally sat, poured yet another cup of coffee, and sipped furiously. "Talk? About what? About how our son is gone? About how you could never let up on him? Do you think he would have gone there if you had ever, just once even, made him feel supported? Appreciated? Valued?" She was glaring at him in a way that made him feel unsteady, and he gripped the edge of his chair to center himself. "Could you, for even one moment, have not tried to control him?"

He did not answer quickly. He did not want to fight with her. "In the past, he rebelled when I sought to direct his course. He is not rebelling. He is doing the opposite."

"Except, no, because you had to tell him that only Vulcans who can't master emotions on their own seek out Gol. You _had _to say that."

He should not have told her he said that. But they were honest with each other whenever possible. It was not in his nature to censor himself with her. "It was the truth."

"So what? It wasn't what he needed to hear. He needed a father, not a judge, not a teacher. But you can never just...love him, can you?"

And through the bond he felt a pang that felt much more personal than a fear he didn't care sufficiently for Spock—did she also think he did not love her? After all these years?

He tried to send her supportive energy through the bond and pitched his voice gently as he said, "Your emotions are understandable. You are grieving."

"For a son who's still here. Still living." She moved closer to him. "I imagine if T'Mela had lived to see Sybok exiled, this is how she would have felt."

He could hear and feel the spite of the words. "My wife..."

"I said don't do that. I'm not a possession. I'm not a thing that's yours. I'm a human—your partner, not your property."

"I am well aware of that." The way he said it, the lightness he tried to infuse, it should have made this an old joke between them.

But instead she turned on him. "I hate you right now."

And he felt something from her that did, in fact, feel precisely like enmity.

"Amanda." He reached for her, but she danced away.

She held her hand up to stop him, and he saw it was trembling. "I have to go. I don't know when I'll be back. It won't be today or tonight, though." And then she grabbed the bag she always carried and fled their quarters.

He knew going after her would be pointless. Early in their association, before he could bond with her, before T'Mela's death, she had been this volatile. She would leave the embassy or their house on Vulcan, sometimes taking Spock with her. Never for long but always with great emotion. But that had changed as she had grown used to her new home, to Vulcan customs, to living with a Vulcan. By the time they had bonded, they had forged a true understanding. He had never experienced this kind of unpredictability through the bond before, and it left him feeling almost ill.

Everything was wrong, and their son was to blame, and yet his wife was determined to make him pay for Spock's actions.

He knew illogical actions were to be expected from a human. But still...he was not sure how to make this better.

Or if he even could.

##

Chapel heard her chime go off and yelled "Enter," expecting it to be the delivery person with her groceries. "Just leave them on the counter," she said, as she came out of her bedroom.

"I'm afraid I come bearing no gifts, my dear." Amanda stood. "Unless you count croissants?"

"I do count them. But...?"

"Why oh why am I here, this early, with pastry?"

Chapel nodded, taking in the almost manic way Amanda was bumping the little container against her leg. "And are they going to survive before you put them down?"

Amanda closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm..." Her voice was shaky.

"Sit. You want coffee?"

"Well, since it's too early for wine, I guess so." Amanda stopped her as she tried to pass, taking her hand and holding it tightly—Chapel could feel her trembling. "You can't feel a damn thing from me, can you?"

"I have no psi abilities."

"And for that, I say thank God." She let Chapel go and slid the container onto the counter, then sat on one of the stools. She seemed to perch, a little bird, nervous and frail.

A little bird who was crying.

"Are you all right?"

"No. No, I'm not." Then she suddenly stood. "Oh, my dear. What am I doing here? You didn't ask for this. For me. Barging in on you." She seemed to realize she was crying and dashed the tears away. "I just...I just wanted a friendly face. A real smile, you know?"

"Sit down, Amanda." When she didn't, she said with more fierceness, "Now."

The chime rang again and she hurried to the door, taking the groceries and signing a nice tip as quickly as she could. She didn't want Amanda spooked. Not when she looked like she might break.

She made a show of unloading the groceries, saying, "Milk, I have milk—do you like milk?" Babbling a little, the way she'd done as a nurse. It always seemed to make people relax. The lack of judgment or urgency.

Not this time, though. Amanda stood, tears clearly falling, and walked to the sliding glass door, staring out at the view as if it was a better one than just several too-close buildings. "I don't know what to do."

Chapel dropped the happy harmless act. "About what?" she asked, loading her voice with the tones she was learning to use as a doctor. The kind that gave assurance that she knew what the hell she was doing.

"About anything." She turned. "I can't stand to be there—at the Embassy. With Sarek. I can't stand Vulcans right now. I've been so mean to him. I love him, but I just can't stand him right now."

Chapel wasn't sure what to say.

Amanda whirled, clearly heading for the door. Chapel debated for a second—let her leave and have her day but know she could have done something. Or help her.

She stepped in front of her and opened her arms. "Amanda. Stop. You're safe."

For a moment Amanda froze, breathing hard, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. "I've been so mean to him, Christine."

"It's okay." She moved toward her slowly, afraid that like a semi-wild kitten, Amanda might spook.

But she didn't. She let her hug her. She held on and cried for a very long time. When she finally pulled away, she whispered, "I must look a mess."

"You do and that's okay. But you're not okay, are you?"

Amanda shook her head, not quite meeting her eyes.

"How can I help?"

"I don't know what to do. I'm trap—" She turned as she bit off the word and walked to the sliding door. "This place must cost you a lot."

"Housing allowance helps."

"But you're hardly here, are you? Long hours for residents, I believe?"

"All true."

"Do you need a roommate? Someone to defray the cost for a while? You've got a spare room, don't you?"

"Uhhhh—"

And again Amanda was a whirl of motion. "Of course you don't want that. Of course you don't need a near-stranger coming in here and weeping in your arms and asking if she can cut off your private time and your fun."

"I didn't say no."

"But you should. If I have no human friends left, well, that's just my own damn fault, isn't it? I shouldn't have submerged myself in Sarek's life." She practically spit Sarek's name out, and her tears were causing her make-up to run even more.

Chapel understood how she felt—or part of it. She'd buried herself in Roger and had no friends left once he was gone. Not until the ship and Jan and Ny and the others. People who knew her for her, not for the man she'd become inextricably linked with.

"Please sit down. On the stool. Let's eat Danish and I'll make you some coffee—decaf—and then we can talk."

"No. Because you're kind and I'm taking advantage of that."

"And I'm okay with that. Now sit your ass down, Amanda." She put her hands on her hips, the way Ny did with her when she wanted her to stop arguing and start obeying directives.

It worked as well for her as it always did for Ny: Amanda sat.

"Okay. Now...start at the beginning."

##

Amanda woke the next day in Christine's guest bed, her head pounding because she'd forgotten to take the antitox that Christine had given her.

She took it and opened the door.

Christine was sitting at the counter, reading a padd. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she said without turning around. "Towels are in the bathroom if you want to shower."

"Okay. And then I'll jut be on my way. Thank you for letting me stay here."

Christine turned, studying her, and Amanda wondered what she saw. "Were you serious about needing a place to stay?"

"I think, right now, I need some time away from the Vulcan embassy. But...nowhere that there's a record." She could feel her face turning red. "Sarek's a famous man and there are always reporters. They would eat this up if they knew I wasn't there. I can't do that to him—I won't. I'll go back there before I do that to him."

"It won't come to that. You can stay as long as you want. Like you said, I'm at Starfleet Medical half the time anyway."

"Well, I'm going to contribute."

"You don't need to."

"Nevertheless..."

Christine finally nodded. "Are you going to tell Sarek? He's sure to be worried."

"He is," she said, reaching deep inside, for the bond. The thing she'd waited so long for. Until a woman died. "Very. I can feel it."

"That must be so strange. But...nice?"

"Usually. Yes, usually it's a great comfort. Right now though..." She closed her eyes. "I feel so trapped. Like I'll never get away." A strangled sound escaped—had she said that? Admitted it?

"Do you need to get away—has he hurt you?"

"Oh, God, no. I mean, yes, sort of, but not like that. Just...by being Vulcan. There's just...it's just too much right now."

Christine looked at her with immense compassion. "I'm so sorry."

"This isn't your problem."

"I used to dream that Spock—and you and Sarek by extension—would be my problem. He never will be, but if I can help you, how can I not?" She walked over and pulled Amanda into a hug.

She resisted for a moment. She wasn't used to being touched by anyone except Sarek. But it felt so good—to feel arms that were human temperature around her. Christine's heart was under her cheek as she nestled in and she imagined the steady beat right where it should be, not down in the abdomen.

They stood like that for a long moment, then Christine said, "I have to go to work. But I put you on the door here and downstairs. You can come and go as you please—bring whatever you need over. The guest room is yours, and I cleared out some space in the bathroom."

She felt a surge of gratitude so strong it nearly leveled her. "Thank you."

"I'm working a double today. So I'll see you tomorrow."

And gratitude was replaced with disappointment. She hadn't come here to be left alone.

Then again, the poor woman standing in front of her, radiating welcome, hadn't asked her to come. So maybe this was what she deserved.

After Christine was gone, she took a shower then studied herself in the mirror. How long had it been since she'd gone shopping or had her hair done by someone who wasn't Vulcan?

But first, she had to talk to Sarek. The concern she was feeling through the bond was...distracting. Was this what she was to him, with the bond and his inherent telepathic abilities? A constant distraction?

A sometimes unwelcome one?

She saw there was a message from him on her communicator. A simple text. "Please tell me where you are and that you are safe."

She called rather than sending back a text.

"Amanda." Relief was apparent in his voice.

"Am I catching you at a bad time?" She hated how formal she sounded, how little warmth was in her voice—she loved him. She would always love him. But...he wasn't what she needed right now.

"I am about to go into a meeting. But it can wait if you need me." He was making his voice extra warm for her—trying. He was trying so hard.

But it wasn't going to be enough. Not right now.

"I'll be staying with Christine."

There was a silence she imagined was him trying to make sense of the statement.

"She's a kindred spirit, Sarek. And...human. I need that right now. But she's also gone much of the time. So I can think, without anyone judging me or telling me I'm not Vulcan enough."

"No one tells you that, my wife." He sounded weary. As if he didn't understand but wasn't going to fight. "But if you need time away, I will not try to prevent that."

"I do need it. But I don't want to embarrass you. I'm not leaving you."

"But you have left me. You are now staying somewhere else."

"Well, not forever. Just long enough to...understand my feelings. I'm so angry and I'm taking it out on you but..."

"But it is not my fault?"

"I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth." She felt the anger that had been so near—that had finally subsided as she'd told Christine everything about Spock—rise back up. She'd also told Christine about how she'd met Sarek. About waiting for him. Told her too much probably, but she'd had too much to drink.

She wasn't used to being free to indulge without anyone judging her. She probably needed to watch that, but she'd worry about how much she was or wasn't drinking later.

When life didn't hurt so much.

"Whatever you need, I will honor it, Amanda." His voice—so warm. He was doing that for her. Making himself open, for her. She could feel his love through the bond.

She forced herself to ignore it. "I'm going to buy some things. I don't want the charges to be a surprise."

"You have clothes here, my wife."

Vulcan clothes for his Vulcan wife. "And you bringing me my clothes or me coming back to get them will raise questions. Feel free to say I'm having a girl's day."

"It is more than a day." Now he sounded morose, but it was a tone that worked well with her, and she knew he was not above using that to his advantage.

Then again, he might just be sad that his wife had lost her mind and moved in with the woman who'd had an unrequited crush on their son for years.

"Sarek, I just need some time. It's not forever." How could it be? With the bond?

"Of course. I...I miss you."

"And I..." But it was a lie to say it. Because at this moment, she didn't miss him. "I love you, Sarek. I'm sorry." Both of those were true.

And seemed to make him happy His voice had more energy as he said, "Call me whenever you desire. I will always make time to be available if it is in my power."

"Okay. I'm sorry. I wish...I wish I could be more Vulcan for you."

"I did not marry a Vulcan, Amanda. I married you."

"Always the right thing to say. Goodbye, my love." She hung up before she started to feel so warmly toward him she'd go back. Because the warmth would fade and she wasn't sure they could endure the sniping and ill will that her anger would bring.

This was necessary. Not just for her, but for them. It was logical, if he would just see it that way.

Before she could dwell on how logic could be used to hurt someone you love, she dressed and headed to one of her favorite stores, a place she usually wandered without buying anything because they weren't things she'd wear as the Vulcan ambassador's wife.

She soon had two shopping bags full and was wearing comfortable slacks and a sweater—her robe pushed into the bottom of one of the bags—when she saw a salon. She walked in before she could think too hard about it.

A beautiful young woman, with a simple bob, walked up. "How can I help you?"

Amanda touched the bun—a style she'd worn for years. "Make me look human."

"Ma'am?"

"Cut it off. Something like yours, if you don't mind doing that?"

The woman smiled. "My name is Elsa, and no, I don't mind doing that." She led her back to a chair and eased her hair out of the fastener. "Oh, your hair is thicker than I thought. Maybe some layers?"

"Yes. Those. Whatever's...fashionable."

Elsa laughed, a lovely sound that made Amanda smile. "Fashionable would be with some highlights. Do you trust me?"

"I do." She grinned, and it felt strange to do it, to be so...spontaneous. "What color highlights?"

"Blonde or auburn for more conservative women. Brighter colors—turquoise would look amazing on you—for bolder types."

"Turquoise it is." She grinned again and waved her fingers. "Can you do my nails too?"

As she beckoned another woman over, Elsa said, "I don't know your name."

"It's Amanda."

"And this fiery siren is Lamika. She does one of-a-kind nail colors."

Lamika had bright red and gold hair and nails that seemed to change color like fire.

Elsa leaned in, like she was sharing a secret with the other woman. "Amanda is a bold woman. Do something extraordinary for her, okay? We're giving her turquoise streaks so something that'll work with that."

"Fun." Lamika grinned as she began pulling out colors that looked like Cape Cod on a perfect summer day. "What's the occasion?"

Amanda took a deep breath. "Freedom."

"Well, here's to freedom, Amanda."

A young man came by as soon as she'd been shampooed, and Elsa and Lamika had started working on her. "Would you like some champagne? Or a mimosa maybe?"

"That sounds heavenly, darling." She smiled and gave herself over to the women.

It was going to be a very, very good day.

##

Sarek took the chance that Christine had not thought to take him off the door to her apartment and set his hand on the panel. The door buzzed and he pulled it open, then hurried to the elevator.

He knew his actions were illogical. His wife had said she needed time, and he had agreed. And yet here he was, not even two days gone, and he felt the need to see her.

Christine was not waiting for him at the door—had he not triggered an alert this time? He buzzed the apartment door, and she opened it. "Oh. Hi. How do you feel about turquoise?"

She had clearly been drinking. Her cheeks were flushed, she was unsteady, and she was leaning into him in a way he did not think she normally would.

"Darling, who is it? This wine's not going to drink itself."

He tried to see around Christine to his wife.

"Oh, did you want to come in?" Christine moved out of the way, murmuring, "I really hope you like turquoise."

He stopped as soon as he could see the couch. His wife—some version of her—was staring back. Even when they had met she had not looked so...

He was not sure how to describe it. Other than younger and fashionably human.

"He hates it. I told you he would, Christine."

"Say you like it," Christine barely vocalized. "For the love of God, say you like it."

"It is most inter—"

"Don't say interesting."

"Becoming."

He heard Christine exhale as if in relief. "See, he likes it." She dug into her pocket and brought out a packet of white tablets. "Let me just sober up—"

"No. Do not. If that is antitox. You are enjoying yourself, are you not?" He looked over at the woman he barely recognized as his wife. What color would one call the shifting shade on her fingernails? "And you are enjoying yourself as well?"

"Damned straight," Amanda said, meeting his eyes as if daring him to tell her not to swear.

He never did, not in the privacy of their chambers. Why would he? It was who she was.

"Do you want some tea?" Christine's voice was gentle. As if she knew how awkward this was. "And I can go into my room if you want privacy."

"Get him tea if you want, but you're not going anywhere. It's your place, Christine." Amanda met Sarek's eyes. "Why are you here? I asked for space. This is the opposite of space."

Christine sighed and fled to the kitchen. A moment later, he smelled the tea he had enjoyed before as it steeped.

"It was an emotional impulse."

"And you're admitting it?" Amanda grinned in a way that was more open than he was used to. The way she had when they had first met. Before she had learned to conform, to tone down who she was.

He found it pleasant to see that smile and openness again. "I am. I miss you. Life is very dull. Our bed very empty." That was the truth.

"And that was very sweet." Christine handed him the tea. "Now, would you like some privacy?"

"My wife deems it unnecessary. Who am I to correct her?"

"Really not the answer I wanted." But Christine sat in the chair, leaving him the couch next to his wife.

He sat and studied Amanda, deciding the hairstyle was appealing even if the colored streaks were not to his taste. "The transformation is startling. Is it permanent?"

She laughed. "Not necessarily. I just wanted to feel...different."

"Achieved that," Christine murmured with a laugh, and Sarek felt something lighten within him when his wife did not react negatively to the jibe, only grinned and said, "I sure did."

She was still capable of humor; he had not been sure if it had gone with Spock to Gol.

She put her wineglass down and began to crawl down the couch to him.

Desire he had despaired of feeling again from her was surging through the bond. "This is also not space, my wife," he said with mock severity.

"I find I no longer want space." She straddled him and he was conscious of how tight her pants were, how much lower this shirt was cut than her normal casual wear. "Can you imagine, my husband, if I did this in front of a Vulcan? The scandal?" She looked back at Christine. "But she doesn't care, do you?"

Christine looked decidedly uncomfortable. "It's a little weird." She met his eyes, hers unsure but...amused too.

His son would have done well to choose this woman. She seemed gently tolerant in a way he thought Spock would have appreciated.

If his son had not already chosen his mate; a man who did not want that from him. Or did not want it until it was too late.

Anger rose up and Amanda pulled back, clearly feeling what he was. "Is that at me?"

"No. At Kirk."

"Oh, well yeah, that's okay. He's a shithead."

"Admiral Shithead," Christine said with a laugh, reaching over and pouring herself another glass of wine. "Now watch me say that sometime in public."

"That would be hilarious. Well, until he busted you down to whatever rank one gets demoted to after insulting a superior officer." Amanda ground slightly on him. "But enough of Kirk. What about you, my husband? Do you want me?" she whispered. Her smile grew mischievous and she touched his temples. "I can tell you do."

"Are you sure I can't give you the room?" Chapel asked softly.

"I want to make love to him in front of you."

"And I'm out. You two have a lovely evening." Christine was as good as her word, taking the glass and a padd and leaving them alone.

"We embarrassed her. Us. An old married couple."

"I do not think I had a hand in that, my wife." He ran his fingers through her hair; it was silkier than he remembered.

"They cut all the dry spots off. I wish all the bad parts inside me could be taken off that easily. I'm so..."

"Angry. I know." He pulled her to him and kissed her gently. "I regret if my actions in the past contributed to Spock's decision. I regret I did not tell you what he was considering. I regret that you are in pain." He traced her cheek. "I regret that I cannot be human for you right now." He tried to send her that through the bond, to let her know he too was affected by their son's decision.

"You do, don't you." She cuddled into him. "I like it here. For now, I mean. It's...I'm free."

"Yes. I realize you are." He eased her off him. "I must go. I have an early meeting. It was an emotional break to come here."

She smiled up at him. "I know. I love it."

"Tell Christine the tea was delicious."

"You didn't drink any of it. I didn't give you a chance."

"Nevertheless. It was kind of her."

"She is kind. I like her so much. Our son's a moron."

"I believe you are correct." He felt her amusement and had to bite back the urge to smile.

"Thank you for not fighting me on this, Sarek."

"I want you to be happy. You were not happy at the embassy."

She stroked his cheek. "It wasn't you. It was me. Maybe you should run away from the embassy too?" She laughed at the idea.

"T'Pau would have an opinion on that."

"And then some." She walked him to the door and kissed him very gently. "I love you. But next time comm before you show up."

"Yes, my wife," he said, eager to please her now that her anger did not stand between them.

He left, even though the idea of running away held some appeal. He was not opposed to her setting out on this retreat from things Vulcan–especially when he could feel the love she felt for him through the bond more clearly than he had since Spock left—but it would not do for him to indulge in such a thing.


	3. Chapter 3

The Problem of Being Human

By Djinn

_Chapter 2: A New Normal_

Chapel walked into the officer's club and saw that it was packed. She almost turned around—beat after a long shift—but then saw someone waving her over. She laughed when she recognized the short glossy hair and imperious motioning and walked over with a smile.

"Need a place to park it?" Lori beckoned to the seat next to her. "I had a feeling you'd show up tonight. Great minds think alike."

"From how crowded it is, I'd say all minds think alike." She sat down happily. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't do this for just anyone. Also, this works out great, actually." She gestured toward the two empty chairs at the table—chairs no one was stealing once they saw it was an admiral who'd taken the table—but if there was a message in the gesture, Chapel was too tired to get it. A server appeared and Lori said, "Order something good. I'm buying."

"I'm too beat to know the difference. Just bring me whatever she's having." Once the server was gone, she glanced at Lori's glass. "That's whisky, right?"

"It is."

"Good." She scrunched down and closed her eyes. "Fuck, I'm tired."

"You do look like something a shuttle ran over."

"Gee, thanks. I pulled a double shift." Why was she still here? Except she wasn't ready to go back to the apartment just yet.

"There's this place for when we're exhausted. Goes by the name of 'Home.' Maybe you've heard of it?"

She opened one eye. "Have an extended houseguest. Needed some me time before I went home. Plus she and her husband are working some shit out so..."

"So, you're here and they have free run of your place. You're a good friend."

"Or monumentally stupid." She waited until the server had put her glass down and then said, "But I love her—and him. I want them to work it out. Just some days I miss having my place be my place."

"I hear you." Lori waved someone else over. "I have a captain you need to meet. Sit up and try to pretend you're awake."

Chapel groaned as she sat up. Then she saw who it was and grinned. "Why, hello, Will."

Decker grinned. "Christine. How are you?"

"I didn't know you two knew each other."

"Well, it's been years," Will said, giving her a quick hug before he sat down. He pointed to her medical insignia. "Doctor, huh?"

"Isn't that interesting?" Lori asked with a tone Chapel couldn't quite decipher. "And a former nurse on Jim's ship—she knows sickbay backwards and forwards, I bet."

"Ahhhh." He grinned. "Interesting."

"I think so too."

Chapel looked from one to the other. "I'd love to serve on the _Enterprise_ again, if that's what you're getting at. If it's not, forget I said anything." She yawned as she reached for her drink.

"She's not at her best. Pulled a double." Lori patted her gently on the arm. "Very dedicated this one."

"Maybe I'm just too dumb to say no." Chapel started to laugh as she looked from one to the other. "Didn't think of that, huh?"

"Nope. But here's someone who can shed some light on your character for us."

Chapel saw Kirk coming toward them. He looked surprised to see her. She couldn't blame him. She didn't travel in his circles normally, and he never seemed to be with Lori in the officer's club or cafeteria. She'd had drinks and meals with her quite a few times since their first meeting in the cafeteria.

"Hello, darling." He gave Lori a perfunctory kiss and the endearment came off a little sarcastic, but his smile was warm as he greeted Will and her. He sat down and groaned. "Nogura never met a meeting he didn't love." He glared at Lori. "How the hell did you get out of it?"

"Scheduled something that looked more important than what he wanted to meet on."

"She's the smart one." He seemed about to say more, then stopped as the server came up, drink in hand. "Ah, Anita, you know what I like."

"I do, sir."

"I keep telling you it's Jim."

The server laughed and blushed.

Lori began jiggling her leg, her lips tight, and Chapel wanted to reach out and stop it—she looked like she might explode. But then Will said, "So, Jim, you worked with Christine here. Should I get her on my ship?"

She could see her former captain bristle at the easy way Will said, "My ship." But it _was_ his ship now.

"Why the hell not? Everyone else is there."

"Not everyone," she murmured.

"What was that?" His eyes had gone hard.

"She said 'Not everyone.' You might need to get your ears checked, my love." Lori smiled tightly and the endearment sounded more like a taunt. "I'm sure she was referring to the holy trinity."

Chapel almost laughed at the idea of Kirk and Spock and Len being that. But Kirk looked even more ticked off at the oblique mention of Spock, so she tried to keep any expression off her face.

"Not a very lasting trinity, though..." Lori leaned back, her leg no longer jiggling, her upper lip going up on one side. The signal of disdain—Chapel had decided to follow Lori's advice to learn about signs of deception. Seemed like a useful thing to add to her diagnosing skills, and the virtual classes were fascinating.

"But a damned effective one," Will said into the silence that was growing progressively hostile. "Legendary, even."

Kirk nodded tightly, and she wondered if he ever saw Len anymore. He looked some weird mix of forlorn and angry, so she thought maybe not.

And she really didn't care. A wave of exhaustion roared through her so she threw back her drink and stood. "Thank you for the drink, Lori. I need to get home or I'm going to fall asleep right here. Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure."

They made appropriate noises about being sorry to see her go as she escaped.

Before she got to the door, a hand on her arm stopped her. Lori laughed, a quick and bitter sound. "Sorry about his mood tonight—and mine. He and I really don't bring the best out in each other. I wanted to tell you I'm travelling for a couple of weeks—didn't want you to think I'd ditched you."

Chapel smiled. "Thank you."

"Let's get together just us next time. I'll comm you."

"Sure, that sounds great." She tried to muster up energy but failed.

"You and Decker—that was a warm hug. Are you interested in him?"

"Will? No. He's way too emotionally available." Shit, did she have no filters? "I mean—"

"I think you said exactly what you mean." Lori laughed. "But that's good. Then if you were assigned to his ship, there'd be no inconvenient entanglements?"

"God, no. I'm a nun these days."

"That's terrible." Lori pulled her in for a quick hug. "Go. Sleep."

"I will." She managed to get to the door and out without anyone else stopping her. The walk to her apartment seemed extra long and when she palmed open her door, she saw Sarek and Amanda cuddled on the sofa. She walked to them, saw the throw had slipped off, and tucked it back over them.

Amanda opened her eyes, blinking but then smiling. "Oh, sweetie, you're home." She eased away from Sarek, then tucked the throw more soundly around him. "He gets so cold when he's tired."

Chapel followed her to the kitchen and drank some water with an antitox chaser. "Did he have a successful mission?"

"No. And I wasn't there to take the stress off." She laughed at Chapel's expression. "Not just in that way." She gazed back at the couch. "We talked all night. It was like when we first met. We're really connecting, you know? Without the bond doing the work."

"I always romanticized the bond."

"So did I. Especially when it was T'Mela who had it with him. But it can turn into a not so great substitute for really communicating."

"I'm happy you two are connecting so well." And she was. The story she'd told Lori was true.

But it wasn't the same one Amanda and Sarek were telling his people. The official story was that Amanda was staying with a friend who needed some extra help during a difficult time, and he was away from the embassy many nights in order to support her.

It was sufficiently vague that it could cover just about anything, and given how much shopping Amanda did for her and cooking, it certainly applied in some sense.

Plus she was great company. As was her drop-in husband.

And she still found her way to official functions so she wasn't missing when it counted. A Vulcan veil could hide a world of turquoise sin—although Amanda had talked about trying purple now that the turquoise had faded somewhat. She hadn't repeated the manicure—too hard to hide that and she said it wasn't her norm to wear polish.

She realized Amanda was wearing one of her more elaborate veils and said, "Another function?"

"He needs me at a dinner." She glanced back at him. "He's working too hard. And all the talking we did. I tuckered him out. We were cuddling—we didn't mean to fall asleep. It's almost time to go.

"Lucky I came back when I did, then. You missed a couple strands. Let me."

Amanda moved close and Chapel gently tucked in the hair.

"You have such a gentle touch."

"All that nursing."

"I think it's more than your training. It's you." She leaned into Chapel's hand. "I don't know if I've really said how much I appreciate you letting us invade your life this way."

"You have." She finished tucking in the hair and realized Sarek was awake and watching them. The look on his face was so tender it made her smile. "Hey, sleepyhead. Nice nap?"

He nodded but as he turned his head back, he grimaced slightly and reached for his neck. "While I enjoy spending time with my wife, this couch is perhaps not the best place for sleeping."

"It is if you lie down on it." She grabbed the scanner and checked him out just to make sure he hadn't sustained an injury on the mission he hadn't wanted to bother Amanda with, but he looked clear. "I can help you. Tilt your head down a little." When he did, she found the spots on the back of the skull, just on and under the occipital bone, and pushed in gently with her thumb joints, rotating slowly. "When I hit the right spot, it should be tender."

"There," he said in the tone of everyone she'd ever done this to—the relief was near instantaneous. "Thank you."

Her grandmother had first taught her the remedy one night after a slumber party when she'd slept in a crazy position and awakened with a neck that hurt to move. "You can do this to yourself too. It works better sometimes because you can find the spot that reacts faster than I can. It's especially useful if you fall asleep in one of those uncomfortable shuttle seats."

"Most kind."

She realized she was still touching him and backed away. "Okay, then."

Amanda was fussing over a stasis container in the kitchen. "Come taste what I made you. I found a new meatloaf recipe."

"Yay?" She was getting sick of meatloaf. Amanda knew it too but was having so much fun making non-vegetarian dishes that Chapel couldn't bring herself to complain all that much. And she was an amazing cook—each of the recipes had been quite different. Still, would a salad be the end of the world?

Sarek stood and said, "Perhaps Christine would prefer the fare at the embassy."

"Well you can take her instead of me to dinner with the Tremarchian ambassador and see how well that goes over. He has the biggest crush on me." She winked at Chapel. "Besides, she's about to drop."

He turned to study her. "Yes, I felt it when you were touching me. Are we interfering with your ability to obtain sufficient rest?"

"No. My occupation is interfering with that." She tasted the meatloaf and nodded approval. "I'm too tired to eat—but I'll take some tomorrow for lunch."

"You need to eat."

"My wife..."

Amanda pouted prettily.

Chapel just laughed. "Okay, I'm going to sleep. Have fun, you two." She made quick work of getting her makeup off and crawled into bed, leaving the door open a crack so she could fall asleep to the sound of their quiet conversation. She was out before they left for their function.

##

Sarek eased himself off Amanda, fighting the urge to smile as she playfully nipped at him. "My wife, you forget yourself."

"And you love it." She rolled to her side with a sigh that sounded both exhausted and happy. "I'm thirsty."

"I will get you some water."

"Thank you." She grinned in a carefree way that made his whole being feel lighter. She was his again. His and not angry any longer. Enjoying her respite from things Vulcan it was true, but she had not abandoned him. He admired how she had risen to any occasion he truly needed her at, no one the wiser at the double life she was leading.

Well, perhaps double was an exaggeration since she was not flaunting her times dressing and behaving as a human. And it was not as if she had only worn Vulcan dress for all these years. During personal time and holidays, she would often return to human garb.

Although she had never changed her hairstyle so drastically. He leaned in to kiss her, playing with the now purple streaks. He preferred this to the turquoise, thought it went well with the mixed gray and dark brown that was her natural color.

"Water, darling."

"Yes, my wife." She even let him call her that without irritation.

He slipped a robe on because he thought he had heard Christine come home while he and Amanda were making love. Fortunately the rooms were well soundproofed.

Christine was indeed home and sitting at the counter with a glass, not drinking, simply swirling the ice around the amber liquid.

He was afraid he would startle her if he said anything so he coughed gently.

She still reacted, jerking a little then turning to look at him. "Oh. Hi."

"Are you all right?"

She put the drink down and shook her head.

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Aren't you busy? Both of you?"

He imagined an unsaid "in my apartment." He knew Amanda was compensating her for the room but still, this had no doubt been a solitary haven for her before that.

"If you are hurting, I have time." He was unsure if she would open up; he sensed she kept much to herself.

But finally she whispered, "I lost a patient."

He could not read the emotion in her voice and was reaching out to touch her hand before he could think better of it.

She jerked away from him, glaring. "Reading me without my permission is fucking rude."

"I beg pardon. I..." He what? Was he going to touch her as if she was his, a part of his intimate family?

She looked instantly contrite. "Sarek, no. I'm sorry. Jesus, I waited years for Spock to want to touch me and now I get mad at you for doing it out of kindness." She reached out. "Do your worst."

"No. It was a breach."

"Well, I forgive it."

He studied her. "Was the loss your fault?"

"No. He was badly injured. We did everything we could. And I've seen death before. Just...not on my watch. I was in charge tonight."

"Are you revisiting your actions? Replaying?"

She nodded. "Trying to find a scenario where he doesn't die. And not finding it." She closed her eyes. "But maybe I don't want to find it?"

"I do not believe that. You are conscientious. And most intelligent. I am certain you did all you could."

She suddenly leaned in, placing her hand against his cheek, and he read a whirling combination of grief and exhaustion but also a certain serenity. She felt guilt, but an appropriate amount—what anyone called to heal would feel when a life was lost.

He leaned into her hand and knew his expression was perhaps too soft. "I was ordered to get my wife water."

"Then you better get on that."

He nodded and eased away. "You should sleep. You are exhausted."

"Steady state these days."

"Yes. It does seem to be." He slid off the stool and pulled a water container from the chiller.

"Sarek?" she said, as he moved past her to the bedroom.

He stopped, glancing back.

"I'm really happy things are working out for you two." She turned back to her glass.

"Thank you." He felt something—an emotion he couldn't identify. Then realized it was pity.

She looked so alone. So still, as she returned to swirling the ice in her drink, no doubt running more of her scenarios.

He finally turned and went back in to Amanda.

She was asleep, her arm thrown over her head. He debated returning to Christine, but finally put the water container down on the nightstand and joined his wife in bed.

Sleep did not come quickly.

##

Chapel muddled lime and sugar together as Amanda changed the music to something Brazilian, catchy and soothing all at once. "I used to drink caipirinhas in Rio. Once upon a time when I had a life."

"I hated Rio. But I was with Sarek and seeing it through his eyes. Also it was Carnival. Too much pressing of flesh for a touch telepath to stand, and that came through the bond and made me so uncomfortable." She flopped into a chair and played with her hair. "Speaking of uncomfortable—can I ask you something personal?"

"Oh you mean you haven't been doing that this whole time?" She laughed as she added the cachaça and mixed it with ice, then carried the glasses carefully to the living room. "Filled them too full."

"As if that's ever a bad thing." Amanda took a sip and made happy "this is yummy" sounds.

Chapel curled up on the couch and tasted—yep, just like she remembered them. "So what did you want to ask?"

"You're a wonderful, giving person. You're so attractive. Why aren't you with someone? Have you been waiting for my son all this time?"

Chapel laughed. "You're not the first one to ask me that." Jan and Ny had both tried to set her up with "the nicest" guys. "On the ship, yes. I was hoping he'd... But he never did. Once I got back to Earth, though? No. But I've killed myself getting this degree as fast as humanly possible. And now I'm trying to impress Starfleet Medical, not some potential lover. I'm ambitious, I guess. I want a really good posting. To know the hard work was worth it."

"That makes sense." She frowned a little. "Can I get nosier?"

Chapel laughed and nodded.

"I see the argument for no long-term person. But are you—I mean it doesn't seem like you have any friends you have sex with. It's so...nice. Even without the love, orgasms are very therapeutic."

"Thank you, Doctor Sex." She rolled her eyes. "I had a friend like that early on in med school, but he moved to Luna for his residency. Since then, it's just too much work. And I'm tired all the time. Don't really feel that attractive, I guess." She smiled in what she hoped was a game way. "Maybe I need some highlights?"

"I think you just need some time to take a breath. I see how hard you work. How stressed you are."

She nodded. "How about I live vicariously through you and Sarek? I know you're having fun in your room even if I can't hear it." She looked away, not wanting her to see how much she missed it. Having someone that way. Someone you loved, who you trusted to take care of you, who you wanted to take care of in return.

"We are. It's...wonderful. Can I say that without seeming like I'm rubbing your nose in it? Because I don't want it to seem that way. But I wasn't sure, after Spock left, if I could get over the anger. The feeling of restriction. It's been so crucial to be here—I hope you know how much we appreciate you letting us enjoy the freedom your place offers. It's been months."

"I do. And it's not like I'm here that often. And when I am, I enjoy you—and him." She took another sip of her drink, relishing the combination of sour and sweet and the "I'll have you on the floor before you even know you're drunk" subtlety of the cachaça. "I'm just a little antsy right now. People are getting their assignments. I still haven't heard."

"I know you'll get a fabulous one. It would be criminal if you didn't."

"I hope you're right." She rubbed her shoulder, trying to knead out the knot that had formed during her last shift.

"Come here." Amanda pointed down to the floor in front of her, so she picked up her drink and took it with her, sitting cross legged with her back to Amanda's knees.

Amanda pulled her so she was leaning against her and said, "Just relax," and then she began to knead, her hands strong and comforting. "I used to do this for Spock when he was little. He'd come home from school just a bundle of tension."

"Are you sure you're not the touch telepath. Holy crap that feels good." She gave herself over, trying to ignore that it also felt good to be touched on a whole other level than the therapeutic relief she was getting.

Amanda was right: she probably did need to get laid, even if that wasn't exactly how she'd put it.

##

Amanda was curled up with a padd and old standards playing on the sound system when Christine came in, her face flushed and a wide smile on her face. "Hello, love. Looks like someone had a good time with her friends."

"Someone really did. Someone didn't want to lose this beautiful buzz before she told you that she may have found out her next assignment." Christine laughed and beckoned her toward her with her finger. "But it's a secret."

Amanda grinned and got up, letting Christine pull her close. "So?"

"CMO." She gave a little whoop of pleasure and pulled her closer as she whispered. "On the motherfucking _Enterprise_."

"Noooooo. Really?"

Christine laughed and nodded.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm so happy for you." She put her hands on Christine's cheeks and, before she'd really thought about it, pulled her down and kissed her. On the mouth. With a great deal of gusto.

She froze and could tell Christine was frozen too. But then a song came on and Christine sighed and said, "This was Roger's favorite," and she pulled her into a dance.

It had been so long since she'd danced. Sarek occasionally tried when he was feeling very generous but it was nothing like dancing with someone who enjoyed it. Or who had some basic skill.

Christine was a very good dancer and they relaxed into each other, moving slowly around the room.

Christine sighed, and it was a satisfied sound, not the harried sigh she so often came home with. "The best part is I'll be serving with old friends—it'll be like going home. Ny is practically designing the new comm layout. And Jan got selected for the transporter crew. The captain is the nicest man. Scotty and Sulu and Chekov will be there."

Amanda nestled closer and said, "Decker's the new captain, right? Wasn't there a commodore named that?"

"His dad. He died on the ship. It was so sad. I met Will at his dad's funeral, actually. Probably how I got the job—being nice to a young officer who remembered me later when it mattered."

"Life is like that sometimes. Don't fight it."

"Believe me, I'm not. It also could have been my new friend Lori."

"Kirk's wife?"

"That's the one." The song changed but Christine didn't let her go. "So, do we want to talk about that kiss?"

"I don't know. Do we?" She pulled away enough to study Christine's expression. Then she pushed the hair that had slipped out of Christine's bun off her cheek—she had such soft skin. "I really am happy for you. You and your friends will be the next generation of leaders. No Kirk and his cronies." It hurt to say it that way since Spock had been part of that, but that's all her son really was now. One of Kirk's former officers. A Vulcan who would always be her flesh and blood, but never again her child in spirit.

"Now you're sad." Christine tipped her face up and kissed her gently, her lips very soft. "Don't be sad. I love seeing you happy. You and Sarek both." She eased away. "And I'm going to get some antitox before one of us tries to seduce the other."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" She grinned as she asked it, so Christine could let it lie if she wanted to as she shook an antitox out of the bottle.

Her buzz was visibly fading as she closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes, it would be a bad thing because you're married to a man I've come to adore just as much as I do you. I wouldn't get in the way of that for the world." She turned away, and Amanda felt a pang of...she wasn't sure what. Maybe just regret that this wonderful woman didn't have someone special in her life.

And definitely annoyance that the someone special could have been her idiot son. "If you're going to be sober, can I start drinking?"

Christine poured her a glass. "Go nuts. I'm going to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a bitch and then I'm off for a week of 'How to be a CMO when you thought you were just going to be a doctor' training at the Starfleet Medical facility in San Diego."

A week alone. And Sarek due home tomorrow from Vulcan. What would they do with all that freedom?

"I'm so proud of you, darling. You'll be a marvelous CMO, I just know it."

"From your lips to God's ears."

##

Sarek stood at the entrance to the Kolinahr temple, gazing out at the forbidding—even for Vulcan—landscape. T'Pau had arranged for him to meet with Spock. It was highly irregular. He knew she thought it an emotional request, but since she too was opposed to Spock's course of action she had, for once, refrained from berating him for his choices.

"Father." Spock's voice had already taken on the gravelly aspect so common in those who studied the discipline.

Sarek turned slowly. "My son."

Spock gazed levelly back, but underneath Sarek sensed confusion. "It is highly irregular for you to be here."

"Indeed. Do you prosper here, Spock?" It was a question rooted in ritual and he saw Spock stiffen.

"I do. I require no intervention."

"This is not an intervention. Merely a reminder that you can leave at any time. If you should...find your destiny does not lie down this path."

"Why would it not?"

Sarek took a deep, steadying breath. "I merely wanted to see for myself that you have found what you were seeking. Since what you were seeking, prior to this, was James T. Kirk, I'm sure you can understand my concern at the dichotomy of this and a possible life with him as your mate. Particularly since I do not believe his marriage is a happy one." He was trying to goad Spock, to shock him into emotion with the one thing that might still reach him. A thing he had gleaned from what Christine had said after dinner with her friend, Kirk's wife. That Kirk might soon be free.

The gambit failed. Spock nodded, as if he were the sage elder and Sarek the child. "Admiral Kirk's situation is one of his own making and not my concern. I have made peace with my past desires. It appears you still have peace to make with whatever you are...feeling about our relationship."

"Such as it is."

"Indeed." Again, Spock did not rise to the bait. "Was there something else?"

"If I told you your mother was not all right, would you care?"

"Is she not all right?"

"It was a hypothetical question."

"About an actual person." Spock finally showed a break, a miniscule frown. "I do not see the purpose for this conversation, Father. Other than once again you do not agree with my choices. But I have learned to move on from concern over whether you do or do not approve of me. It is...irrelevant."

"Then that is all there is to say, Spock. Peace and long life." He turned on his heel, not willing to show his son that he was hurt—all these years with enmity between them and he had never felt this way. Perhaps because he had known that even if it was a negative feeling, there was at least the connection of mistrust between them.

Now Spock was a stranger. A stranger who caused him pain.

He meditated on this during the trip back to Earth. For most of it, until he could put it away, in some part of himself that would never pass to Amanda. He did not want her to ever experience their son the way he just had.

But he was surprised to see her waiting for him at the spacedock, in full Vulcan attire, her colorful streaks hidden from view, her makeup subdued. He hurried to her. "My wife."

"Are you all right?" she asked so quietly only another Vulcan could have heard it. "You felt so sad for a while. I had to come."

"And in clothing you currently dislike." He got her moving toward the VIP transporter, in no mood to wait at the closer general one with the long line.

"I would never, ever embarrass you on purpose, my love."

He felt a surge of warmth at her words. The sentiment and the endearment. "I have missed you."

"And I you."

They held their conversation as they entered the VIP room and beamed to the transporter station near Christine's apartment.

"Come up. Christine's gone all week at a training class. We'll have the place to ourselves. To reconnect after your time away-like the old days." Her eyes gleamed in a way that reminded him of when they first met, before she had toned down so much that was vibrant about her to better integrate into Vulcan society.

And they did reconnect once they got to the apartment, and like the other times he was with her in this small, sparsely furnished bedroom, he felt freer than he currently did at the embassy. Burying his head in her throat, he inhaled the fragrance of his woman—that at least, even with her not residing with him, had not changed.

She ran her hand down his body, skin to skin, and he closed his eyes and wished he could give her back their son. "You're still not at peace, Sarek."

"Divert me, then. Tell me something amusing you and Christine have done."

She started to laugh softly. "I kissed her."

He let an eyebrow rise slowly. "Indeed?"

"She got news of her next position and we were celebrating—I was excited. Forgot myself. But..."

He pulled away so he could study her. He felt no guilt from her. No regret. And she rarely forgot herself. Even now. "Do you want to be with her?"

"If you're asking me if I want to have a relationship with her outside of our marriage, then no, I don't."

"That was very precisely worded."

"I know. I've been thinking about it. Do you find her attractive?"

"I do." He felt secure answering. Amanda often asked him if he found this or that female appealing. It was usually asked just out of curiosity, though.

"So do I. Do you think..."

He realized where she was going with this and said, "I should tell you I saw Spock." He held up a hand before she could speak. "I am not changing the subject. This is relevant to your question. I believe I did not think he would go through with it—that he would reach for a graceful exit from Gol if it was offered once he had spent enough time there—experienced the deprivation. But he does not wish to leave. Not even when I intimated that Kirk's marriage might be a short one. He is indeed lost to us—to me." He took her hand and brought it to his lips.

She stroked his hair, her eyes full of pain, but one they shared now, not hers alone.

"I can never make things better between our son and myself. So now I truly feel what you have been feeling. Alone. Adrift. Except we are neither of those things. We have each other. This place, and the woman who resides in it, have been instrumental to us re-forging our connection. What we feel for her could be akin to the feelings a patient might have for a physician who heals them or for a spiritual leader who gives them peace. This may simply be transference. Gratitude masquerading as desire."

She sighed and nestled closer. "I think both of us are fully capable of knowing how we feel. So, is this your convoluted way of saying you aren't interested in her?"

"I believe it is my way of saying I am." He took a centering breath and let it out. "But the complications. The...optics." T'Pau would have more to criticize him for.

Amanda pushed him to his back and crawled over him. "But she's shipping out as CMO on the _Enterprise_ as soon as it's out of refits—that's what we were celebrating. She's already mentioned we might want to keep the apartment for quiet getaways."

"That would be pleasant. I enjoy it here. I enjoy us here."

"I do too. But she's leaving. For five years with only occasional returns here to Earth. How much trouble would we really get in?" She stroked his hair, and he closed his eyes and gave himself over to her. "We don't need to decide anything now. I don't know that she even wants that from me or you or us. For all I know, she considers us her wacky surrogate parents."

"Perhaps."

"It's too bad we don't have a telepath around who could confirm how deep her feelings go with a little glancing touch..." She laughed as he shook his head. "What? Like you weren't thinking of that too?"

He had not been.

But now he was.


	4. Chapter 4

The Problem of Being Human

By Djinn

_Chapter 3: Before You Go_

_Part 1_

Chapel sat with Will in the cafeteria, going over the few remaining positions left that reported to medical and still needed to be filled.

"This is amazing, isn't it?" He leaned back, grinning in the open way he had, a grin that wanted nothing more than this charming collegiality.

She was loving working with him, getting to know him better over the last few months. "It is."

His communicator beeped, and he checked it then sighed. "Another impromptu meeting. This is the part that's not so fun. My time used to be more my own."

"Your time will be yours again once we're safely on the ship. In fact, your time will be our time. If you're some kind of asshole captain."

He laughed. "Yes, I think I'll be that. Do you think I'll be any good at being an asshole?"

"Honestly, no." She handed him back the padds they'd been working on. "Go. Get smarter or whatever happens at your meetings. I'm going to go home and enjoy working normal hours for the first time in forever."

She watched him leave then turned back and saw that Kirk was watching her from across the room. She smiled in an uncertain way and he walked over. She was about to say hello when he said with a smirk she wasn't used to, "You two looked cozy."

"Excuse me?"

He sat down, leaned in, and said very softly, "CMO on my ship. Assigned there as a doctor, sure, but _the_ doctor? I couldn't see it even if Lori thought it was perfect. Until I saw you two together. Then...of course. It all makes sense." He smirked again, reminding her almost nothing of the man she'd enjoyed serving under.

"I'm going to assume you're a very unhappy man at this point. Here on earth, with no ship—she's not yours, anymore, sir. She's Will's. No ship and no Spock. And both your fault. You moved on. Why shouldn't they?"

She could see her words hit and felt simultaneously sorry and a surge of victory.

He laughed and it was a bitter sound. "You forgot one. Lori moved on too."

She knew that, but if he didn't think she did, why let him in on how friendly she and Lori had become over the months since her assignment? Or that she knew Lori was seeing an admiral named Finnegan, that the marriage to Kirk was over. "Sorry."

"No you're not." He drummed his fingers on the table as he leaned in, and she didn't think he even knew he was doing it. She'd never seen him so...on edge. "And wow, look at you. Not content to sit in the background and be insulted."

"Not used to you being the one to insult me."

"Well, I'm not as charming as I used to be. Ask my former wife."

She wasn't sure what to say, so she gathered her tray and stood.

"Leaving so soon? Was it something I said, Christine?"

"For whatever it's worth, sir, Captain Decker and I are nothing more than what you and McCoy were. Friends. Unless you want to tell me you're the reason he's not around anymore, either?"

Another hit registered. She just didn't care. This man had caused such a cascade of damage when he'd run from Spock. Part of the wreckage had been living with her for all these months. And now he'd say this shit to her—be so mean when he was supposed to be Will's friend and had recommended him for the position?

She turned and hurried off, closing out her work and then walking briskly to her place, trying to shake off the anger and frustration. Did others think she got the posting this way?

When she opened the door to her apartment, she saw Sarek sitting at the counter, sipping a mug of what was no doubt the new oolong she'd left out for him. She practically stomped over to him and said, "Do you think I fucked my way into being CMO?"

His eyebrow went up. "I assume Captain Decker would be the partner in question?"

She nodded. "Do you think he and I are screwing?"

"If you are, you are not doing it here. Amanda and I are often present and we have never seen—"

"Aarghh. Why am I asking you?" Stupid Vulcan male with his stupid way of tiptoeing around what was a simple goddamned question. "Amanda...?"

But she wasn't in the guest room.

"She is not here, Christine. She is hosting a reception at the embassy."

She stopped and turned. "But you're here."

"My presence was not required there. And it has been a trying day. She suggested I escape to this—our sanctuary." He put the mug down and rose. "A sanctuary I am fully aware is also your residence." He seemed to be studying her intently. "Am I welcome here without her?"

She was getting used to him looking at her like this, as if he was trying to determine something—as if she was any kind of mystery. "Of course you're welcome. I was just surprised."

"And also kind beyond measure. I am not sure I believe you." Again the cock of the head, the narrowing of the eyes. She had, as she had for months, the sense he wanted to just read her.

But she wasn't going to do that. Not when she thought what she was seeing might be interest on his part. She'd never do that to Amanda. And for all she knew, his Pon Farr was coming on and making him as weird as Spock was on the ship with his talks of protesting against their nature.

"Have you grown weary of having us here?" he asked very softly.

"I haven't."

He looked down. "Perhaps it is time that we gave up our freedom. You are no longer absent as frequently as you were. I do not wish for us to impose."

"Sarek, what do I have to do to convince you I'm fine with you both being here?" She could see he didn't believe her, so she grabbed his hand. "Here. What do you feel?"

He looked up slowly, turning his hand so they were palm to palm. " I feel anger, first and foremost."

"But not at you. At Kirk." She closed her eyes. "He said things... Made me so mad. How many people think I got CMO this way?"

"If there are any who do, there is nothing you can do to disprove it other than show professionalism and competence until they realize they were wrong. But it was certainly not my impression that it was the reason. And I do not believe that Starfleet Command would have approved the appointment if they believed you were in an intimate relationship with the ship's new captain."

He was still holding her hand, and he reached out and cupped her cheek. "I am sorry he upset you."

For a minute, she leaned into his touch. Then, when he didn't pull his hand away, she whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I can feel that you derive comfort from my touch."

She was deriving other things from his touch as well—things she didn't want to think too hard about. She eased away, not meeting his eyes. "Whether I do or not isn't really something we should discuss."

"So you can kiss my wife but I may not...soothe you?"

She looked at him—glared at him was probably more accurate. "It was more that she kissed me. And she told you about that?"

"She did. Amanda and I have few secrets. Especially now. Being here—the freedom you have provided us—it has been exceptionally beneficial for our marriage."

"Then why are you hitting on me—are you hitting on me?" God, could this day get any weirder?

"If I were, would that be of interest to you?"

She wasn't sure what to say. Finally she laughed, the sound as bitter as Kirk's. "Is this the Pon Farr speaking? Or is it more that when Vulcans espouse infinite diversity in infinite combinations, it's just a fancy term for open marriage?"

"It is not the Pon Farr. And I suppose some could interpret IDIC in that manner, but it is not what is meant."

"You spin every answer. So goddamned slippery. I can see why you're outstanding at your job." She laughed, and this time it sounded slightly hysterical.

Why couldn't this just be the Pon Farr? That would mean nothing; the same way Spock's unnerving focus in his quarters had meant nothing as soon as he was himself again.

"Do you wish us to leave, Christine? Perhaps it is time."

She yanked her hand away. "No, I don't goddamn want you to leave. Now stop confusing me and go drink your tea. I need a fucking drink." She glared at him until he nodded gently and returned to the counter. Then she went into the kitchen, poured herself a huge glass of a Spanish red she'd been saving, and sat next to him. "Do you two...?"

Fuck, she was not going to ask this.

"Do we two...what?"

"Is your marriage open? Is that what this is?"

"It is not. I have always been faithful to her—other than the times I had to be with T'Mela. And I would know if she had ever been unfaithful to me. We value fidelity, Christine."

She could feel her face redden. "Bully for you." Taking a huge sip of her wine, she sighed. "Sorry, didn't mean to overreact."

"You did not overreact. You just misread my intention. You assume I am interested in you for myself."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you matchmaking for some other Vulcan?" She wanted to dump her wine over his head, but then it would stain the carpet.

"You assume I am interested _solely _for myself." He said it so softly she probably could ignore it if she wanted to.

But she didn't want to. She turned and he turned and their knees were suddenly pressed together. "Are you saying you and Amanda—both of you—want me?"

"I am. You should consider whether that is anything you are interested in. If it is not, we will forget that we had this conversation."

"Bullshit. No one ever forgets a conversation like this."

His lips ticked up enough to qualify for a smile in Vulcan terms. "Then we will ignore it."

"Does she know you're broaching this—oh, of course she does. You two have no secrets and she told you to come here tonight." She took another large sip of wine.

"For whatever it is worth, I felt interest just now. When I touched you." He studied her, finally shifting so their knees didn't press so hard against each other. "Do you wish for me to leave? I can return to the embassy."

"No, I just want you to stop talking. This day has been a shitty one, and I don't plan to make any important decisions tonight." She was suddenly hyper aware of him next to her, the sound of his breath, the scent of incense. Things she'd come to take for granted.

To welcome.

And it had been so long since she'd been touched. She'd been working so hard.

She loved them. Both of them. She was comfortable with them.

And she was shipping out. This didn't have to be anything permanent if they didn't prove compatible.

Oh, holy fuck—was she actually considering this?

"Nothing has to change, Christine. I can feel your unease from here. Please—I did not mean to upset you."

"I came in upset. You...you just confused the hell out of me." She took a deep breath, trying to center. "Do you like the new tea?"

"I do. It is quite different from the Baozhong. Tell me about it."

So she did, grateful he was steering them into far less confusing waters.

##

Amanda could tell Sarek had talked to Christine by the way she never quite met her eyes, even if she appeared to be in very good spirits after what seemed like a lot of wine. Making the subtle gesture that Sarek would know meant she wanted to speak to him in private, she left Christine on the balcony and went into the kitchen.

When he joined her, she murmured, "She seems..."

"Confused. I believe we have confused her. But...I also believe she is considering it."

"Well, then, I'll just leave her alone to think about it. What are you in the mood for?"

He very deliberately looked out to the balcony and she laughed. "Ah, you meant for dinner." He touched her cheek. "I did that to make you smile. I am not set on this."

"I know. Me neither." She pulled him down to her, kissing him softly. "And you do make me smile. Whatever she decides is fine."

"Agreed. Will you make Takleya?"

"It's been forever since I've made that. Let me see if we have what we'd need for that." She checked the chiller and laughed. "You bought the ingredients?"

"I hoped you would indulge me."

"Always, my love. Christine doesn't like things too spicy, though."

"I can compromise."

Their eyes met and she burst out laughing. "I'm sure you can. Go sit with her while I cook. I don't want her thinking that this new things is all there is. She's our friend now. Our very dear friend."

"Indeed."

But as soon as he went out, Christine came back in and grabbed the antitox container, taking one.

"Are you all right?" Amanda met Sarek's eyes where he stood at the balcony door. "Have we upset you?"

Christine closed her eyes for a moment, and Amanda could see the good mood falling away. "I'm so angry." She shook her head. "But not at you two. At Kirk. How dare he."

She waited for more information, then finally looked at Sarek with a helpless expression.

He looked sheepish, in the way he always did when he'd determined something too minor to mention, but it wasn't. "Kirk insinuated she had secured her posting through intimate congress with Captain Decker."

"Yeah, I fucked my way to it." Christine glared at Sarek. "Can't you just say it that way? Your way sounds so hygienic."

He made the kind of helpless shrug that always got him off the hook with Amanda, and Christine turned back to her.

"Darling, no one will believe it."

"They will if he starts telling them. I didn't make things better—I was so mean." She sat down at the counter. "Give me something to chop. I need to destroy something."

"Not in the mood you're in." She studied her. "Do you really think he'd say anything? He's not a gossip, is he?"

"The Kirk I knew wasn't. But you didn't see him. He's not the same guy. His wife left him and I'm pretty sure he hates his job."

Sarek sat next to her. "I have heard from a variety of sources that he has indeed undergone something of a personality change during his time at Command. It is attributed to the fact that he is unhappy being planet bound."

Christine nodded. "He misses space. His ship. Spock, no doubt."

"Well, that's on him." Amanda waved the knife around a bit, causing both of them to draw back. "Still, I'm sure he won't say anything about this."

"I could ensure he did not." Sarek met her eyes, his look the one that said to let him run with whatever he was going to say, no matter how strange. Then he turned to Christine. "I could tell him you are in a committed relationship with us."

Amanda tried to hide her surprise and focused on chopping the vegetables.

"You'd do that for me?"

"It would, I think, surprise him into silence."

Which was not Sarek saying he'd actually do it. Amanda hid a smile and wondered if Christine would catch that.

But Christine seemed too far gone in her anger to catch the subtleties of Vulcan verbal avoidance. Or perhaps she just wasn't looking for it. "I can't let you. Some people would react badly to such an arrangement. And...it's not true." She looked at him, then at Amanda. "It's not true. We're not in a committed relationship."

Amanda said nothing. She waited, chopping quietly. "How spicy do you want this, dear?" she finally asked.

"Is that a joke?" Christine stood, but Sarek caught her arm.

"She is not making light of this. She is trying to change the subject. The dish is usually quite spicy. I like it that way."

"Then have it that way. It's how it's supposed to be made. By her, for you. How the hell do I even figure in this?" She got up and managed to avoid Sarek's hand this time. "I'm going out. Don't wait up."

And then she was gone and Sarek took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Well, that went well." Amanda rolled her eyes at him, then handed him the vegetables. "Here, you normally do this anyway."

He got to chopping.

"She's right, you know. It is you and I, and she's not part of it. Why are we trying so hard to make her be part of it? Are you bored with me?"

He met her eyes, his eyebrows drawn down in what for him was a deep frown. "Of course not. You were the one who indicated this was—"

"I know that. But...we're having fun with this. And she's not. And maybe we need to stop. Maybe we need to go home and just be us, the ambassador and his wife, not...whatever it is we're doing here."

He sighed. "You may well be right." Then he met her eyes, weary humor in his. "Or perhaps I should not have broached it when she was in this state. I hoped to divert her from thinking about what Kirk said regarding her appointment. I did not think of how the suggestion would affect her." He sighed again. "It is her house, and she had to flee."

They finished preparing the food in silence and ate a somber, very spicy, meal.

Christine was still not home by the time they went to bed.

##

Sarek heard the door of the apartment opening and eased away from Amanda, slipping out of bed and closing the door behind him. He found Christine in the living room, standing with arms crossed in front of the sliding glass doors to the balcony.

"I know your footsteps." She didn't turn around and he could not read her tone. She sounded...Vulcan.

"Are you all right?" He had learned after a life with Amanda that this was a key question, less for ascertaining a truthful answer—or at least not on first asking—but in demonstrating his level of care.

She shrugged.

He moved closer to her and could smell another male on her. A slight surge of possessiveness came from the knowledge that she might have been working out her feelings sexually, but nothing untoward.

"I went to Will's."

Until he heard that. The level of irritation he felt surprised him. Was he frustrated with her for making the rumors fact or did he consider Decker some kind of...threat to what he considered his? "So you and he are—"

"Still going to be serving together." She turned, a look he again couldn't read on her face. "What you just asked—what I just interrupted. Where were you going with that thought?"

He tried the shrug that had worked so well before.

"No. You thought I went there to be with him." She laughed, but the sound held little amusement. "I cannot fucking win."

"I am..." He wanted to say relieved, but decided that would not be what she wanted to hear. "Sorry."

"Yeah, thanks. I went to tell him there were rumors. I didn't tell him that it was Kirk who said it to me—that would kill him. He idolizes the man. I said I'd step aside if he wanted to select a less tainted CMO. He told me not to be stupid." She held up her hand; it was trembling. "So why do I feel so bad? Why do I feel like he's the stupid one?"

He did not answer, was not sure how to answer. He wanted to take her into his arms, but that felt wrong.

Until Amanda surprised him by pushing past him, pulling Christine to her, saying, "Oh, sweetheart, Kirk's just bitter. This isn't about you, and it isn't about Will, and I don't think he'll say anything to anyone else. He was striking out. And you were within reach."

"But I didn't just take it. Why didn't I just take it? Why'd I have to say something cutting back?"

"Because it's not in your nature to just take it." She smoothed Christine's hair off her face. "I don't think it's Will you needed to talk to. It's Kirk. Hash this out, as former shipmates. As friends. Sometimes the people we strike out at are the ones we need most to talk to."

Despite being so much shorter than Christine, she managed to push her toward Sarek as she said, "Let me make you some tea."

He and Christine stared at each other awkwardly.

"Oh, for God's sake, Sarek, hold her. Can't you see she needs it?"

So he opened his arms and Christine almost collapsed against him, but she didn't cry, which surprised him because he could feel the turmoil inside her. But primarily he could feel exhaustion.

"I'm so fucking tired. I've worked so hard."

"I _will_ speak to Kirk if you wish." And this time he meant it. This time he would say whatever he needed to in order to provide her some serenity.

"No. Amanda's right. I need to talk to him. I'll do it as soon as I can get an appointment with him."

He allowed himself to hold her more tightly, and she relaxed against him, whispering. "You two are making it so hard to say no to you."

"Christine, you do not have to say anything. I should not have broached this."

"It was already broached. When I kissed your wife after she kissed me." She reached up and touched his face, no longer whispering when she said, "You do have a beautiful nose."

Amanda laughed. "It's his best feature."

He let an eyebrow go up because that was not what she said when they were in private, and this time Christine laughed, although he did not think for the same reason he was amused. He let himself relax and almost smile as he stroked her hair. "No decisions will be made tonight. Let us give you the sanctuary that you gave us. Let us protect you. Anything else...it can wait."

"Forever, if that's the right thing. We're your friends, darling. First and foremost." Amanda brought the tea over and set it on the coffee table, then she pointed, and he dutifully eased Christine over to where she indicated on the couch, leaving enough room for her to sit on the other side.

"I don't really want any tea." Christine slid down, resting her head on Amanda's shoulder. Then she took his hand. "I'm so tired."

Amanda glanced at him and he nodded to confirm he was sensing that. "Darling, if we've contributed to how tired you are, I'm so sorry. He and I—we're all right now. If you want your apartment and your privacy back, just say so. You've been so kind and—"

"Amanda, shut up." She let go of his hand, cuddled in closer to his wife, closed her eyes, and a moment later was asleep.

He reached for the throw she had tucked around them on more than one occasion to him and wrapped it around her and Amanda. "Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, to taste this tea you two keep going on about."

He handed it to her and she took a sip. "It's good." She held it out, and they shared the cup as they often did in private.

He felt a surge of extraordinary tenderness for her, and she glanced at him, surprise and happiness clear in her expression and then coming to him through the bond. Just as his tenderness must have flowed to her.

"I love you so, Sarek."

"And I you." He tried to hand the tea to her.

"You finish it. I'm beat." She shifted a little, closed her eyes, and soon her breathing too changed to that of sleep.

He watched her and Christine for a long moment, then rose and took the tea and a padd to the counter and worked while they slept.

##

The next day, Chapel looked up to see Will in the doorway of her temporary office.

"Got a sec?" he asked, already hitting the privacy button. The door slid shut and he began to pace. "First off, I want to apologize for getting so angry last night."

"You were angry?"

He stopped and laughed. "I was furious."

"Huh. Okay." She filed that away for future reference. He was going to be a lot harder to read than she'd expected. "At me, for coming to you?"

"No, at whoever said it. And yes, at you, for thinking I'd give a damn what anyone said. You're my CMO, Christine. And that's how it is. No goddamn rumor is going to get in the way of that. Especially when it's not true."

"I overreacted. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. We're still feeling our way. I just wanted you to know that we're a team. A united front."

"Got it, boss."

"For what it's worth, I hate being called that."

"It will never cross my lips again." She gave him the smile she knew put people at ease.

"I'm sorry. I'm just antsy. And—"

"And...?"

"And it's like until we're underway, I'm always going to feel like they're going to take it away." He let his breath out. "It's the flagship."

"Yes, it is. And I for one can't wait to get out there, on your ship."

"Ours." He laughed.

"Right. Ours." She loved how he could share—how much of a team he was building. "New adventures await." But as she said that, she felt something in her protest.

She was leaving people she loved behind. She didn't expect that. She'd thought everyone she really cared about had either retired or was going to be on the ship. But now there was Amanda and Sarek and...she loved them.

"I'll let you get back to work, Doc."

"For what it's worth, I don't hate that." God knew she'd worked hard enough to be called that.

"I know." With a grin, he was gone.

She put off going to see Kirk, not comming his office to get an appointment, finding it hard to muster up the energy to confront him. Finally, when it was long after shift change, she closed up her terminal and walked from Medical to the wing he was on.

His light was on, the other desks shut down for the night. She walked to the door to his office, saw him sitting at his terminal, and said, "Sir?"

He looked up and stood, an embarrassed smile on his face. "Chris. Come in."

"I don't have an appointment."

"It's fine. Just come in." He gestured to a chair. "I want to say I'm sorry."

"I want to say that too." She sat, leaning in. "I said some things—"

"Belay that. You said some things because I said even worse things. I..." His lips got tight and he shook his head. "I'm not at my best."

"I'm sorry, sir. I know you've lost a lot."

"Not lost. Given up. Thrown away—or never wanted in the first place." He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and—and you don't need to care about that."

"I do care. I value the time I spent on your ship. I learned a lot from watching you. And from watching you and McCoy."

"Thank you. That's very generous after what I said." His smile was beautiful but sad. "For the record, I don't think you and Will... I just...I saw you and him, and you were so in sync. The way Bones and I used to be. The way Spock and I were. And something...broke inside me, I guess. He's taking my ship. And you were on my crew first. You and Uhura, Sulu and Chekov and Scotty."

"And Rand."

"Jesus, her too?" He rubbed his eyes, and she felt a surge of compassion. He looked so lost. "Do you want to get out of here? Go get a drink or dinner or something?"

She imagined how that might go. How charming he could be if he wanted to. How much he needed someone. How much she liked being needed.

And she remembered how mean he'd been to her—for no good reason.

And how she'd never be Spock.

And that she'd had to come to him, not the other way around, for this little heart-to-heart. He was reaching out—but not to her, really. Just to any person who was still in the vicinity.

It was sad. But it wasn't her problem. And—

"I'm in a relationship, sir. If, I mean, if that's what you're asking... Dinner doesn't have to mean a date, I know." She knew she was turning bright red.

"It probably was what I was asking." His smile was a gentle one, bittersweet. "Who's the lucky person? Please tell me it's not my wife—she thinks highly of you."

"It's not Lori. I'd rather not say who it is. It's new. May not go anywhere. Kind of exploring the whole idea—and how it could work, if it even will work, after I ship out. But I feel...safe in this relationship. I feel..." She shook her head, unsure how to explain it.

"Hold onto it, then. Don't throw it away because you're afraid." He came around and pulled her in for a hug that felt comforting and genuine and not at all sexual. "I lost everything when I could have had forever. So stupid."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Jim, Chris. Call me Jim. And go. Go explore your relationship. Run headlong into it. Life's short and the people we love can disappear."

She nodded and touched his cheek very softly. "If I weren't in this thing, I'd say yes." She wasn't certain of that, but it seemed the generous thing to say. The kindest thing, and she considered herself a kind person.

"If your explorations come to naught, look me up, okay?"

"Thank you, Jim."

"Will's going to be a great captain. And you're perfect for him. You'll be gentle, but you won't let him run roughshod over you." He let her go. "Go on. I've got work to do."

"Yes, sir." She suddenly felt so sad for him. "Find a ship, Jim. Get back to space. This job—Earth—it's sucking the life out of you."

"Space isn't in my future, Chris. Admirals don't captain ships."

She nodded. "Right. They run the place."

"That they do. Generally from a really boring meeting." He turned back to his terminal. "Go on. Be with your new love. Be happy, Chris."

She decided not to say, "You too," as she slipped out the door. She didn't think he was going to be, not in this job, not alone.

##

Amanda hugged Sarek, holding him closer than she would normally because he'd told her the mission he'd suddenly been assigned would be dangerous. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"You know I will."

She smiled as she heard the door open and came out with him to talk to Christine who smiled at them and said, "I cleared the air with Kirk."

"Good."

Then Christine seemed to notice Sarek's bag. "What's going on?"

"Starfleet needs him. And it's a nasty place, so wish him well."

"Oh, you're leaving." There was something off in Christine's voice—something almost forlorn—and she tried to assess the difference.

"You are disappointed that I am leaving?" Sarek touched a certain place on her back, the one that meant: "Pay attention to this."

"I am." Christine looked down. "I guess... I mean..." She waved off whatever she was going to say. "You've got to go, right?"

"I have a few moments if you wish to tell us something."

"I do want to tell you something. But you plural—you know: what we were talking about."

Amanda reached back, drumming on his leg, hidden by the robe, in the way that meant, "I'm in favor of this."

"I see." He leaned down to Amanda and kissed her gently but quite thoroughly, then walked over to Christine, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her the same way. "I trust you and my wife can find ways to entertain yourselves until I get back."

Christine laughed. "I guess we can."

"It did start with you two, after all." He touched her cheek gently, then looked back at Amanda. "I will see you soon, my love."

It was sheer indulgence to her, to all things human, to call her that. But it also was the right thing to say; Christine looked charmed as she let him go.

After a last look at both of them, he was gone.

"Oh my," Amanda said, smiling in what she knew was a nervous way. "I was rather hoping he'd be here for this. I've never... With a woman, I mean. Because of course I have. I do. With him." She was babbling, for God's sake. And she'd started this.

Christine laughed. "I've never either. With a woman."

"Well, won't this be fun, then?" She began to giggle, and it was a sound of both relief and hysteria. "But we both know what we like. So we can start there, I guess."

Christine walked to her, smiling so sweetly it made her feel warm and safe. She played with her hair, laughing as she said, "This crazy hair. I love your crazy streaks."

"I think he does too even if he'll never admit it." She put her hand over Christine's, pushing it harder against her hair. "He likes you too, my dearest.

"He's a good kisser."

"He is." Amanda reached up and pulled her down. "But, as I recall, so are you."

For a moment, there was awkwardness. But then she grew aware of how soft Christine's lips were, how gentle the way she touched her hair.

They eased away, and Christine laughed softly and gestured to the hallway. "Which bedroom?"

"You choose."

"Yours."

She studied her. "Why?"

"I'm coming into your marriage. I should invade your room. Plus mine's a mess."

Amanda laughed. "You're as pragmatic as a Vulcan." She took her hand and led her to the bedroom. "I had a best friend in elementary school I used to practice kissing for boys with. Her lips were almost as soft as yours are."

"Yours are really nice too." Christine grinned as Amanda pushed her down to sit on the bed. "For such a tiny thing you are so goddamn strong."

"I've had to be. My life...it hasn't always been a cakewalk."

"No, I guess not." She opened her legs and pulled her between them, so they could kiss, so Amanda could pull off her uniform and look at her and then...

Fuck. Christine was so much younger.

"Why are you stopping?" Christine reached up, turning her face so she had to meet her eyes. "Hey, where'd you go?"

"I'm an old woman."

"No, you're not." Christine began to unbutton Amanda's top. "You're warm and lively and beautiful. And I want to see you." She didn't stop until she could see everything. She touched, so lightly it left Amanda shivering, glancing taps and strokes down her arm, around her neck, then over more intimate places. "I love it when I'm touched this way."

"I'll remember that." Amanda reached around, releasing Christine's hair from the bun, fluffing it and then running her hand up, at the nape of the neck, through the hair. "I love this."

"It is nice." Christine grinned. "I think this is going to be so much fun. Because there are a lot of things I like that I can show you."

"Ditto, my darling." Amanda crawled past her, onto the bed and drew her to her. "I've never had another lover since I've been with Sarek. This is a little...strange."

"Strange bad or strange nice?" She didn't wait for an answer, just began to kiss down her body, licking and sucking until the heat inside Amanda built and was rising, rising, rising and—

She arched, crying out, shocked at how quickly she'd come.

"I'm going to say it's strange nice." Christine looked like a child who'd broken into the holiday gifts, so delighted with herself.

Amanda laughed and said, "Strange very, very, very nice." Then she pushed Christine to her back and said, "My turn."

"Oh, if you must," Christine said, laughing, then laughing turned to sighs, then moans, then—she wasn't quiet, not at all.

"This is wonderful," Amanda said as she slipped in next to her, running her fingers over her throat, then her chest. "Everything makes sense."

"I know." Christine pulled her to her and kissed, deeply, with more assurance than their first kiss, with more playfulness too. "I'm glad it's just us two to start with. We have so much to learn and it's going to be such a hardship to learn it. Many, many trying hours."

She had the silliest grin, and Amanda just had to kiss her, pulling her down, wrapping her legs around her, grinding once she found a spot that made her tingle and then Christine was reaching down, turning the tingle back into the wondrous climb and fall.

She wondered what Sarek was feeling from her. She hoped it was the same amazing delight that being with Christine this way could be so much fun.

And anticipation of what it could become once he joined them.

##

Sarek took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was finally done with what had seemed particularly tedious negotiations.

The emotions he was sensing from Amanda had not helped matters. He was distracted—incredibly so.

He was also feeling both territorial because she was having sex with someone other than him and aroused at the idea that he would also soon be having sex with Christine.

Although he foresaw problems. The two women together, their focus only on each other—that was a familiar thing, easy to make the transition from one partner to a different one. But adding a third?

He could not deny the idea excited him, but he also worried that what seemed workable in theory might prove untenable in execution.

And if that was so, someone would be hurt. Perhaps all of them.

He tried to push the thought of what lay ahead aside, to lose himself in Vulcan disciplines as he and his team made their—very slow, it seemed—way home. But once they made spacedock, once he was beaming down, he was eager to get to the apartment.

Starfleet Command, unfortunately, had other ideas. And he found himself in a meeting when he thought he would be finished for the day, trying his best to suppress the irritation that his reports and the conversations he had conducted via a terminal on the ship could not suffice.

No—he was allowing his emotions to override logic and duty. That was unsupportable.

He sent a quick text comm to Amanda, letting her know he was held up.

And then he focused and answered questions, allowing those with half his intellect and experience to question his actions. All things he did every day.

Normally, he was resigned to it. Today it chafed, and he knew why.

Finally, he could make his escape but ran into Kirk as he was hurrying. He nodded and pushed past him, but Kirk said, "Ambassador?"

He turned.

"Spock—I wondered. Does he...prosper?"

"I would not know." And that was this man's fault.

Kirk swallowed visibly. "I deeply regret how this went."

He was not sure what he was expected to do with the statement. He cocked his head and nodded slowly—a move he had found could be interpreted however his interlocutor desired. It was most imprecise, but preferable to speaking truth in instances where honesty would create unnecessary conflict.

Kirk however seemed to understand what he was doing. "You blame me?"

"As you are to blame, that is logical, is it not?" He nearly closed his eyes—why was he instigating an argument with this man when his women waited?

His women. He felt a surge of satisfaction at the thought. "I apologize. I know my son may have been...clumsy in how he approached this. What is done is done." There, let him slip off the hook of guilt. Sarek did not care how Kirk felt. Did not wish to help him cope with his loss or conversely make him feel worse about it.

He just wanted to leave.

Kirk seemed about to say something more, so Sarek said, "I apologize, but I have another appointment." Then he turned on his heel and left, contemplating the illogic of having to feign regret for simply keeping to one's schedule.

Even if the schedule in question was not one his assistant would know about.

As he hurried, nearly to the exit, he saw Christine walk into Command. She met his eyes, regret in hers.

He walked to her and asked, "You are all right?"

"There's a problem with the new biobeds. It's going to throw off a bunch of other improvements in sickbay if we don't solve it tonight so we're meeting with the engineers." She nodded to someone behind him and he turned.

Decker stood, smiling at her in a way Sarek was not entirely sure was collegial.

Her smile back at him was warm.

Too warm?

Did he have the right to wonder that?

"I'll be right there, Will." She turned back to him. "She's waiting for you at the apartment. I'm sorry—so, so, so sorry—that I'm not also waiting." Her smile changed, became mischievous. "But I'll be home as soon as I can."

"I look forward to it." He knew his look was perhaps too intense for this venue.

Her eyes dilated, the scent of her changed subtly, and he felt great satisfaction at the idea that he had aroused her so easily.

"Go," he said, and she grinned again and hurried off. He nodded to Decker who nodded back in an amiable manner; Sarek decided there was no sign that Decker had considered his interaction with the man's new CMO as overly intimate.

He walked slowly, his need to rush diminished, and he realized he was more disappointed than perhaps was healthy for his marriage.

But he forgot his disappointment when he opened the apartment door. When Amanda grinned at him, stripped off his robe, and pushed him down on the couch. "She got called away. Will just I do?" She was laughing as she asked—and he felt that despite her time spent with Christine, she had missed him greatly.

"More than sufficient. But...here?" In the living room, where they had been careful not to go too far in case Christine came home unexpectedly.

"We don't have to stay in the bedroom anymore." She nipped his lower lip. "We're going to have so much fun."


	5. Chapter 5

The Problem of Being Human

By Djinn

_Chapter 3, Part 2_

Chapel sat back in the flitter one of the engineers was sharing with her, too tired to move as the sun came up, brightening the sky in a way that would be heartening if she were just getting up to see it. Will had told her to take the day off, and she wanted nothing more than to fall into bed.

But which bed?

She'd been sleeping with Amanda. It wasn't that big a bed and Sarek was home.

Sarek, who'd been unbearably sexy without even trying when she saw him at Starfleet Command.

The flitter stopped and she mumbled goodbye as she got out and then palmed her way into the building, collapsing against the elevator wall and closing her eyes during the short ride, then forcing herself to walk down the hall to her door. She entered quietly and listened for a moment to see if anyone was up, but it was silent in the apartment.

She walked to Amanda's room and stood in the doorway. Sarek and Amanda were cuddled together asleep, and she tried to figure out where she was supposed to lie down.

Sighing, she turned to go to her room.

"Christine?" His voice was soft.

She turned back. "I thought you were asleep." She shook her head. "I'm so tired. Just...I'll talk to you when I wake up."

And then she fled, standing in her bedroom, unsure why any of this had seemed like a good idea.

"Darling, come to bed." Amanda stole in behind her, arms wrapping around her waist. "He woke me up. Why aren't you with us?"

"There's no room."

"You're exhausted. Come to bed right now." Amanda took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

With Sarek watching, Amanda eased off Chapel's uniform, kissing gently. When she was naked, Amanda turned her to face him fully, and she felt exposed—but not embarrassed. His wife was making this so easy. "Isn't she lovely, darling?"

"Indeed."

"And like a Christmas present, she's for later. For now, she sleeps." Amanda urged her into the bed, between them, and she lay on her back as they both snuggled into her.

"Hi," she said with a nervous laugh to Sarek.

"Good morning." He reached out, then stopped himself.

"You can touch to soothe, my husband." Amanda grinned, as if she loved being in charge. Then she leaned in and kissed Chapel gently, her lips soft and loving.

"Sleep," Sarek said and he tipped her chin so she had to look at him, also kissing her gently, his lips firmer, more demanding even though he was being tender.

"I think I could... If you want..."

"Go to sleep. We have plenty of time." Amanda said as she slipped her leg over Chapel's.

Sarek did the same and it might have felt confining with anyone else, but she felt cherished and protected. She closed her eyes and said, "I love you."

"Sweet girl," she heard Amanda say just before she surrendered to sleep.

##

Amanda woke curled against Christine as she had for days now. She rose just enough to see that Sarek was awake. "Good morning again," she whispered, then started to laugh.

She was staring over another woman at her husband—a woman who was her lover, but not his.

Not yet, anyway.

"Good morning," he mouthed back.

"Did you sleep?"

He shook his head in the way that meant it didn't matter. She was used to him not needing as much sleep as she did; she was also used to him staying in the bed anyway because he enjoyed sharing it with her.

Although she sensed something else—something new. He was awake because he wanted Christine even if he was looking at her.

She wanted to wake Christine. She wanted to kiss her until she groaned and made the groggy "I'm still sort of asleep but I love what you're doing to me" noises that Amanda had come to know.

But something stopped her. "Let's let her sleep. We could make breakfast."

He actually frowned. "Earlier, she reacted badly to a perceived lack of space on the bed. I believe she would react just as negatively to being left with all the space."

"In other words, you don't what to leave her?" Couldn't he just say what he meant?

Christine stirred. "If this is your idea of pillow talk, it's lacking." She rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"

He looked at the chrono. "Ten thirteen."

Amanda frowned. "You should be at work."

"I have nothing on my schedule." His expression, as he met her eyes, was untroubled. "I ensured that I would not."

"For me?" Christine turned to him, a grin growing. Then she reached back, pulling Amanda to drape over her. "For us?" She turned just enough to kiss her, her hand tangling in Amanda's hair. She smiled as she pulled away. "Is he going crazy yet?"

Amanda looked at him. He was, but she shook her head and dipped in for another kiss.

"My wife. You are monopolizing her."

Christine laughed against her, pushing her over, following her, moving them away from Sarek, acting as if he wasn't there, only giggling too much for it to be believable, until he sat up and eased them both toward him.

"Oh, did you want something, my husband?" Amanda ran her hand down Christine's throat, to her collarbone, then her breasts. "This lovely woman, perhaps?"

Christine pulled him down to her, never letting go of Amanda's hand as he kissed her, as he began to get to know her body, as he made her arch and cry out. As she came down, Amanda crawled over her, pushed Sarek to his back, and straddled him.

"You like this?" She lowered herself, knowing the answer without his fervent nod. He touched her cheek, then closed his eyes.

He never closed his eyes when she rode him this way. But he was hard because he'd been pleasuring another woman. Did he wish it were Christine on top of him? "Open your eyes."

He did, quickly. "My wife?"

"Who do you see?"

"I see you."

Christine slid along her leg, kissing. "Beautiful you."

She began to move, but her eyes didn't leave Sarek's. She saw a flicker—concern—in his eyes, in his expression.

"I see you, Amanda."

Christine eased away. "Are we okay?" Her look was troubled and sweet—the look of the woman she'd been making love to for days.

It had been so easy when it was just the two of them.

"We are, my dearest. Just...growing pains, I guess. I'm not used to sharing him."

"Or me."

"Or you." She sighed. "Have I ruined everything?"

Christine eased up behind her, kissing her neck the way she loved. "Of course not."

"You were occupied in a most pleasurable way before you stopped." Sarek pulled her down, kissing her the way he used to when they were new, when nothing was certain. "I love you," he whispered.

Then he eased her back so Christine could capture her arms, and watched as she leaned against her, as their lover made her feel even more than he did alone. And then he was gone, calling out, but not her name. Not Christine's either. An incoherent sound—but deliberately so, she thought.

He probably didn't know whose name to call out after what she'd just said.

And he was kind. He would not want to leave Christine out even if his wife had suddenly turned unusually needy.

During an act that had been her idea.

He touched her hips, his eyes meeting hers, assessing. Knowing her too well.

"I love this," Christine murmured against her.

She swallowed hard, fighting an urge to push the other woman off the bed.

She'd wanted this.

It was just strange. And the bond would make it stranger. Christine could never understand that. How it felt to feel your mate desire another. How right it felt in theory.

How wrong it felt coming at you through the bond.

She eased off her husband, pulling Christine's hands down, to caress, to have. "He comes back quickly."

There. She was giving him to her. Surely that would quiet the discord between desire and possession?

Christine leaned down, her mouth, her lips, bringing Sarek back very quickly.

Too quickly? Would he have been ready this soon if it was just her?

This time he didn't look at her, this time he focused on Christine, on pulling her onto him.

But she imagined he wanted to push her beneath him, to take her in a primal way. How much did he hold back with her? How much could he let go with a younger woman?

Christine reached for her as she came.

She didn't reach back.

##

Chapel lay with her head in Amanda's lap. She wanted to reach for Sarek, to pull his hand to her, onto her hair, the way Amanda had gotten her addicted to being touched.

But she didn't think Amanda would like that.

Not for the first time, she wished she were the touch telepath. What the hell? None of this had been her idea. From the moment Amanda had moved herself into her life. And now she was being this weird about it?

The silence shifted from the natural release and slide down from bliss to something charged and...

Ugly. It felt ugly. "I don't think this is the way threesomes are supposed to work."

Oh, fucking shit, had she said that out loud?

By the way it got even more awkward, she realized she had.

"Maybe because it's wrong," Amanda said, not meeting her eyes. Her voice was small, defeated.

Chapel sat up so she was facing them, refusing to pull covers up and over herself, even though she suddenly felt very exposed. "Why is this wrong now?" She glared at Amanda. "It wasn't wrong when it was just us."

Sarek actually sighed. "Two is perhaps an easier number than three."

"No, perhaps about it. But this wasn't my idea. It was yours. You two couldn't have bothered to work out your goddamn angst before you dragged me into it?" She wanted to storm out, to grab her clothes and go—where? This was her apartment for fuck's sake. Yet she felt like the intruder.

"I do not believe my wife anticipated how it would feel to see me with you."

"Well why the fuck not? Why didn't you anticipate it—you plan everything?" She glared at him, then at Amanda again for good measure. She always had something clever to say. Why not now?

"I think we need some ground rules," Amanda finally said into the ever-growing tension.

She laughed, the sound bitter. "Like what? You can have me, and we both can have you, but he can't have me? That's not a ground rule. That's not even a triangle. It's just an angle."

Amanda swallowed visibly and looked away.

"Is this about my age again?" At Sarek's look, she said, "She hesitated. When we first made love. Because I was younger. Which is stupid. I know I'm younger. So fucking what?"

Amanda whirled on her, more anger than Christine expected on her face. "That was not yours to tell him."

She felt an answering energy filling her: she'd never goddamn asked for any of this. Why was she feeling like some pleasure girl who'd forgotten to leave when her time was up? "I was there. The experience is half mine. Jesus, how much of this do you have to control? You couldn't run Spock's life so you're going to run mine?"

The horrible thing she'd just said hung between them all.

Amanda got up, her face red. "Be out of this bed when I get back."

She got up faster, got between her and the door. "This is my fucking place. You be out of it."

Amanda's hand was out but she caught it—didn't Amanda know nurses were pros at ducking?

"Don't ever, ever slap me. Don't you dare." She saw Amanda tear up and closed her eyes. "I didn't mean what I said—about you leaving." She turned to Sarek. He didn't look surprised—had he seen this coming and done this anyway? Why?

Did he want her that much? Or did he think he could save his marriage this way—and to hell with her?

"I'm just so confused." She closed her eyes and was dismayed to find herself crying.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry." Amanda pulled her in. "I'm sorry. I thought this was what I wanted. When it was just us...it was."

If Amanda weren't being so gentle, if she just went back to being angry, then Chapel would feel better. But holding her, when it didn't mean anything anymore... Why?

"I told him you made me feel safe." She could barely get the words out. How fucking stupid had she been? Would Kirk have been the better option?

"Told who?" Sarek asked, still on the bed.

"None of your goddamn business." She pushed Amanda away. "I think we all need time to think about this. You most of all. I think at this point, he and I are just along for the ride." She touched Amanda's face. "I would never have guessed this would be how it ends."

"It's not over."

"Yes, it is. I know you—give me that, at least. After all this time. I do know you."

Amanda closed her eyes, then nodded.

"Oh well. I leave soon. I thought I'd have you both here. My little port in the storm. So. Fucking. Stupid." She looked at Sarek. "You have nothing to say? Got your ya-yas out, I guess, and that's it. Now the great communicator is silent?"

"I agree with you. I too am perplexed." But he didn't look perplexed. He looked disappointed.

And they were two very different things.

He _had_ seen this coming.

"Do you want us to move out?" Amanda's voice was very small.

She didn't answer quickly. Assessed the hassle it would be to have to pack up her shit now when she'd planned to let them use the place indefinitely—and they'd wanted that. "No. I can actually report to the ship early." Will wanted her to, in fact. She could acclimate before the rest of the crew got there. Join the command team—the people who had always been her future far more than the relationship that had just died in this room. "I wasn't going to go up early because of us. But it's probably a good idea. And you guys will need this place even more now—to work out whatever crisis this causes. Maybe the problem isn't with everyone else, Amanda? Maybe the problem is with you?"

"Because I'm human? Because I made a mistake?"

"But which was the mistake? Doing this in the first place—having me? Or throwing it all away. When it could have been so nice." She closed her eyes. "Three-legged stools are very stable. Tripods too. It's when you try to stand something up on two legs that it falls—without, that is, something to lean on." She opened her eyes to see the jab hit home for both of them.

"We have four legs," Amanda said, her tone not one Chapel was used to hearing. Sharp—almost mean. "So your argument, while seemingly apt, isn't."

"It is if your husband is going to make his arguments in bases of twos and threes." She leaned in. "But that's the problem, I think. All this time and you two still aren't speaking the same language." She felt the anger draining out of her.

Was it at all unexpected that this wasn't going to work? It probably had started to rot from the moment it began.

She picked up her clothes from the floor and closed the door behind her.

##

Sarek studied his wife, choosing not to speak as he did so. Either she would go after Christine and bring her back and this new relationship would go on. Or she would let her go. And it would end.

He had felt her emotions during the sex—especially when he had taken Christine. He had felt her pain and done it anyway.

Because he had known it would be his only time? Or because he was...frustrated that she'd brought them all to this only to be the one to back away?

Why would she doubt him? Why had he felt such jealousy? Such fear?

Did she think he would leave her for a woman not much younger than her when considered in Vulcan terms?

That he would leave her in any situation?

"What have I done?" she finally whispered, loudly enough that he knew she wanted him to hear.

"It can be undone. But only you can decide."

She whirled on him. "Why? Why is this on me? You're here too."

"I would not be. We both know that. There is a chain of events and it started with our son's defection, but that can no longer be blamed, my wife. Your disaffection with what life has become—my willingness to do whatever you needed so that you would make your way through it and return to me—have brought us here."

She nodded, looking defeated, and moved to him, not protesting when he pulled her down to him, when he gently nuzzled her neck.

"Have I broken her heart?"

"I do not think so."

"Why not?" She cuddled in more tightly. "I think she loves me—us."

"I believe she does. But I am not sure she is in love with either of us. You heard her: we made her feel safe. That may, in the end, be very important to her. Far more than being wanted. Or in love." He eased her into a more comfortable position for them both.

"She took care of us. She just wanted that in return?"

"It is very possible. After all, she could have gone back to science. But she chose to continue in medicine. To heal, to work with others."

"To protect." She sighed. "But she's still a scientist. She saw this wasn't working and she cut it off with surgical precision. A Vulcan could not have done it better."

"Did you fall in love with her, my wife?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She sighed. "She's younger. So attractive."

"Those things are trivial. You are the mate of my heart, Amanda." He chose to put this in human terms, to reach her by his willingness to set aside the Vulcan manner of speaking of emotions. She was human. Let her be human. Let him try, for this moment, to also be. "I _chose_ you. Willingly—we were not bonded when we were children and had no say. I will always choose you."

"Then I guess there's nothing more to say. Because, no I didn't fall in love with her. I fell in love with being human with her. With laughing loudly and drinking more than I should because she always has antitox. With sleeping in and wearing clothes that didn't swish as I walked. With letting my hair be a part of who I am, not carefully controlled. And..."

"And?"

"And I wanted to be needed. Oh, Sarek, I could have been a mother to her, not this. What was I thinking?"

He opted not to say she had not been thinking. She had been running on emotion. But so had he or he would have expended more energy to talk her out of a plan he could see the problems with from the start.

"At least she's going away," Amanda said, and there was steel in her voice, wrapping itself around the misery he could feel from her.

Misery, no doubt, that she had caused pain. That she had not been able to do this thing she thought she'd wanted. That she had, in fact, enjoyed greatly.

Until he'd become part of it. "Yes. At least there is that."

##

Amanda stood at the door, watching Christine pack. She'd wasted no time contacting Decker, and then the quartermasters to arrange for her things.

"You can come in," Christine said without turning to look at her. "I'm not going to yell at you."

"Why not? I deserve it." She saw how badly Christine was packing her clothing—she was more upset than she was letting on—and pushed her away gently. "Let me do this for you."

For a moment, she thought Christine might resist, but then she moved away and began to put smaller things into another container.

"Will was ecstatic when I told him I was on my way. I probably should have just said yes in the first place. Why was I putting this thing with you two ahead of my relationship with him and my new colleagues?" Her tone was cold, but Amanda only had to look at the jumble of clothes she'd shoved into the shipping container to know she was anything but uncaring.

She took them out and began to fold them in a way that would keep them neat and let Christine see everything that was there. "I'm sorry."

"Not sorry enough to let me back in."

"You're the one who precipitated the break."

"No, I'm just the physician who realized a bone was broken. You're the one who fractured it all to hell." She turned. "I was happy. For one stupid week, I was even blissful. God, a sucker born every minute is right."

"Don't. Don't act like I wasn't in it too. I was. Our time together—I'll always treasure it. If anything happened to Sarek, I'd want you." She waited for Christine to look at her, but she didn't. "I mean that. I really enjoyed it."

She could see Christine stiffen. "I love being the runner-up. Makes a gal feel great." She turned, her look no longer the easygoing mask she'd been wearing. "You won't be welcome if anything happens to him. Just so we're clear. I'm not picking up the pieces of your life for you again."

"But if I were to go first?" Which she probably would. "You'd take him, wouldn't you?"

"You think I want to be second best for him too?" But there was a catch in her voice that made Amanda wonder what she really would do if the path to Sarek were free of her.

"Someone will be next. Who knows—he might love that person more."

"Doubtful." Christine turned back to her task. "And what kind of hell would that be? Being bonded to him and knowing you don't measure up?"

"But that's just it." She could barely get the words out. "I _know_ what he's feeling when he's with you. And you measure up just fine."

"Clearly the problem." She grabbed a t-shirt from the back of a drawer and lobbed it onto the bed. "God forbid we might all care about each other."

Amanda concentrated on the clothing, folding carefully, trying to not create any more wrinkles in Christine's life. "I'm a little lost, Christine."

"News to no one. You need therapy, not a fuck buddy." Christine walked to her, and tipped her chin up. "I'm actually serious. I think you do. This isn't—" She closed her eyes then wiped them when tears leaked out anyway. "This isn't like you. Hurting someone you care about."

"I know." She touched Christine's cheek, wiping the tears away as gently as she could. "I've made such a mess of this."

"I let you. I liked being needed. I liked even more that you were Spock's mother and father. I couldn't have him, but I could have you." She opened her eyes. "I think maybe that's part of why I let you in the way I did."

"I know. I think that's why I came to you. I wish..." She sighed, long and low. "I wish you were his wife. I wish I were your mother-in-law. I wish I could have come to you without all of this." She touched her hair, then gestured back at her room. "I'll consider therapy."

"Okay."

"Will you forgive me? Will we ever be friends again?"

Christine just shrugged.

It was better than a no.

##

Chapel was finishing a report Will needed when she heard his soft cough. "I'm almost done."

"Not why I'm here." He set a beer down on her desk. "That can wait."

She glanced over at him and saw that he looked shaken. "What is it?"

"Starfleet overrode my choice for navigator."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you felt that strongly about it."

"I didn't. It's who they are picking that's got me thrown." He took a long pull of his beer. Then another.

She decided to join him in the drowning of sorrows while he worked up to whatever it was he needed to say.

"It hasn't been posted yet. I'm not even supposed to know. But Lori... Thank God for Lori. She knows what this means." He took another drink. "Have you ever had something great and you ran from it?"

"No, but I was just in a relationship with someone who did. It sucks."

He frowned. "I knew you looked happier. And _was_ in a relationship?"

"Yeah. It was great until it suddenly wasn't. Although—if I'm honest—I probably should have known it couldn't work. It just felt so good. Anyway, I ran headlong when I should have been hightailing it the hell out of there. So what's your tale of woe?"

"Deltan."

"Oh. Wow. You ran from a Deltan?"

"Yeah. Go figure. Me a big coward." He put his head down and pretended to be knocking it against the desk. "Doc, shoot me now."

"Do you dislike her that much?"

"The opposite."

"Ohhhhh." She sighed and rested her hand on his head. "You could just implement the James T. Kirk 'Not in the Nest' policy." She laughed softly and wondered how Spock had liked that—Jan had hated it. "And Deltans take an oath."

"Yes, not to be celibate. They still fall in love." He sighed. "I'm not sure how to be her captain."

"You'll figure it out. You're the best man I know. And she's coming back to you voluntarily. No way she's not aware who's in charge."

"But you'd think she'd reach out. See what I thought." He sighed. "Let me know where we stand."

"Our problem is thinking anyone's going to do that. We like clarity and instead we get games." She realized she was projecting an awful lot onto this poor Deltan. "I don't even know her. There may not be games."

"She's straightforward. There are no games. Unless they're mutually consensual." He started to laugh.

"How many beers have you had?"

"Just this one." He straightened up and leaned back in the chair. "You can talk me down better than booze can."

"That's why I'm here."

"I'm really glad. I trust you, Christine. I mean that."

"I trust you too."

"No matter what, we have this. Our ship. Our future far from Earth. They may be able to put Ilia on the ship, but that's the last billet. Now it's mine." He held up his bottle. "Now it's ours."

She clinked her bottle against his. "And no one's going to take that away from us."


	6. Chapter 6

The Problem of Being Human

By Djinn

_Chapter 4 – Yesterday's Tomorrow_

Chapel sat with Lori in a bar far from Starfleet Command. They were both out of uniform, pretending to be regular people. Very drunk regular people. Lori was sitting next to her on the banquette since someone had taken the chair that would normally have been across the tiny cocktail table. It had the benefit of making it easier to talk in the noisy place and also made them look together-together, which would keep anyone from hitting on them when Chapel just wanted to mourn her lost captain—and opportunity—in peace.

"To the shortest stint as CMO ever," she said as she held out her glass. It was the fifth time they'd toasted it. "And to Will and whatever that Ilia thing was. I hope they find happiness in unity."

"Do you think they will?" Lori sounded skeptical.

Chapel just shrugged.

"Well, at least I have you back." Lori grimaced. "I know. I know. It sucks. But I'm running out of comforting things to say."

"It's okay. I'll stop whining soon. I promise."

"I know you will. You're a survivor." She shook her head, her expression wry. "Gotta give Jim credit—he can screw a lot of lives up without breaking a sweat. You're not the only one who jumped ship."

Chapel knew that. Jan had transferred off almost as fast as she had. Kirk hadn't appeared to mind either of them getting the hell out of there. "At least he and Spock are very happy." God, she could have lived forever without seeing their sappy ass reunion in sickbay.

Although it was the stake in the heart of her last hopes about Spock and her. It finally set her free.

"You do have antitox, right?" Lori asked as she motioned their server over and ordered two more manhattans.

"Yep. But I'm not taking it until I'm about to puke."

"How adult of you." She leaned back and crossed her legs, and as her very short skirt slid up a little, Chapel enjoyed the sight of a little more tan skin showing than it had before.

"Are you checking me out?" Lori tipped her chin up. "How drunk are you?"

"I don't have to be drunk to know how pretty you are." She sighed. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"You didn't. It's just... I thought you were with someone. You seemed happier for a while."

"Yeah, well, happiness doesn't last all that long." She closed her eyes. It only lasted a few days if you did it as well as she and Amanda and Sarek had.

"Please tell me you weren't with Jim."

"I wasn't. He did ask me out, though."

"Of course he did."

"I actually don't think it had much to do with me. I was just a familiar face and he was lonely." She slouched down and leaned against Lori's shoulder.

"Who were you with?"

"I can't tell you."

"Oh, fuck me. You weren't with Decker, were you? It would explain the extra level of moroseness here."

"Nope."

"Friends share, Chapel." When she shook her head. "A hint. Come on."

"I can tell you it was a woman. Not Fleet." And a man. But she was leaving that part out. Partly because it was way too complicated to explain, and partly because Sarek hadn't been the one to break her heart. At the end of the day, they'd both been pulled along in Amanda's wake.

"Well that narrows it down." She mock glared. "So, you do like women?" She grinned and crossed her legs again.

Chapel rolled her eyes. "She was my first." She sighed and reached for the antitox before she could spill too much, but Lori stopped her.

"You'll clam up once you're sober. Talk to me. What happened?"

"Have you ever thought something sounded so good—like the answer to a lot of things—and then you get into it and you realize it's not at all what you thought it would be?"

"I do. Does that mean you're sticking to men?"

"That's the hell of it. I liked being with her. Until it went to shit. But it went to shit because she is who she is, not because she's female."

"I actually followed that." Lori laughed softly. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." She closed her eyes and shook her head at her own folly—the room spun and she rode it out. "It's just that when I fall, I do it quietly, you know? And I think about it and usually I just keep it to myself. Well, unless some stupid virus makes me tell someone like, oh, say, Spock, that I love him. But otherwise, the person needs to make the first move, you know?"

"Okay."

"So sometimes they do. Like Roger did. And sometimes they never do. Like Spock never did. And then there's this. She did and it was so nice. But then things changed and the nice little dream world I was living in went poof. Nothing left. Only everything's left because people don't just disappear." She hadn't run into Amanda or Sarek yet, but it was probably just a matter of time. "And normally I'd just pour myself into my job but I don't have a posting I'm proud of."

Starfleet Medical had a place for her but it wasn't like being CMO. Like having someone want her for a job. They took her back because they had to.

Although her mentors had been quick to tell her no one thought the worse of her for leaving. Being deputy had not been what she'd signed up for. The only reason they hadn't reassigned her as CMO to another ship was that the slots were all filled. She was waiting for someone to either die or retire basically if she wanted to get into a new slot before the next round of reassignments.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the antitox, taking a tab and putting the pack on the table so Lori could help herself.

"I can't help much with the heartache. Although if you point her out to me, I will kick her ass."

Chapel laughed. "You'd do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you. Haven't you figured that out yet?" Lori leaned hard against her. "I can help with the job."

"You don't have to."

"But I do. Because this is for my staff, and I don't hire people I don't think I can count on."

"You suddenly need a doctor for Nogura? Come on."

"I need someone with your unique set of skills." She laughed. "Let's talk about it when we're not drowning our sorrows. The position will open up in a few weeks. Nogura's on board with you coming in."

"You already asked him? What if I wasn't on board with that?"

"Aren't you?" Lori's grin was unrepentant.

"Shut up." She started to laugh. "Of course I am."

"Because I do know you, Chapel."

And that felt good. That felt right.

"I know it didn't happen in a way that either of us like, but I'm really glad you're back on Earth."

"Me too. You've been my sanity."

"Buck up, little camper," Lori said as she took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "We may be sober again, but that does not mean we're dead. We are young-ish. We look amazing." She reached up, playing with her hair. "The waves suit you. So pretty." She touched her cheek gently. "Now, let's go out there and only dance with each other, and make everyone else cry because they can't have us." She grinned in a way that made Chapel laugh.

"I love you, Lori."

"Right back at you, Chapel."

##

Amanda walked through the embassy, taking it in, nodding serenely to those who murmured greetings. It was nice to be back. Nice to not feel so on edge.

Or it had been. When she'd known they had the apartment to go back to. But now, with Christine home they needed to give it back to her. Or she assumed they did. Christine hadn't been in touch.

She found Sarek in the courtyard, sitting by the fountain. "My wife."

"My husband." She resisted putting the emphasis on the "my" part of that. He was hers, no matter how much he had enjoyed Christine.

Hell, she had enjoyed Christine. It didn't mean she wanted to trade Sarek in for her.

She'd never gone to therapy. Had decided she didn't want to share what was going on—the things she'd done with and to Christine—with an outsider. If any of it got out, it was a risk to Sarek and his standing. And hers, if she was honest.

She'd come to realize as she'd processed things in a more solitary way, that there was little she wouldn't do to protect herself. It was a bit chilling.

"Have you seen her?" Shit, that wasn't what she'd meant to ask.

"I have not."

Should she care that he didn't have to ask who she meant. Then again, how many other women were there in this city that were so important to both of them.

"Do you miss her?" She hadn't asked him this while Christine had been safely gone. Now that she was back on Earth, it seemed crucial.

"If I say yes, it will upset you."

She sat next to him, put her hand over his where the touch would be hidden by his robe. He twined his fingers with hers. "I won't be upset. I just don't want us to have her between us as something we don't talk about. She's a part of us now, our history—our love."

He nodded.

"But I wish she'd stayed on the ship."

"Kirk demoted her."

"It's the flagship. The deputy posting on it is still a plum assignment." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I didn't have to think about her if she was gone."

"You do not have to think about her now that she has returned. You are choosing to."

"I wanted her. I took her. I shared her. And then I threw her away. And you had no say in the matter."

He seemed to be considering that. "I could have said no at any point. To you leaving me. To spending time with you in her apartment. To being open to having her become part of our relationship. To then allowing you to end it. We both know a bond does not mean Vulcans don't leave each other if something else is desired."

"We do."

"I stayed. I was part of it. Perhaps not driving the decisions but enabling." He trailed his other hand through the fountain. "What of the apartment?"

She hated to give it up. They'd enjoyed it so much—that haven. "She hasn't told me she wants it back."

"Perhaps it has memories she would rather forget."

"Yes. Perhaps." He understood humans far too well. "At least Spock is back."

Spock had commed her immediately after they had eliminated the threat from V'ger. He had seemed...happy and open. The meld with that killing machine had made him temporarily more emotional, if she understood what he'd told her right. She had much less confusion about the state of his heart—he was with Jim. Really with him. Finally, he had what he wanted.

"Yes. We have that." Sarek squeezed her hand gently. "Our son has returned."

##

Sarek beamed aboard the _Enterprise_, a last minute ship change and one he felt uncertain about. He was surprised to see both Kirk and Spock waiting for him in the transporter room.

"Ambassador." Kirk's voice was warm.

"Father." Spock's voice was less harsh than it had been the last time they talked.

"I thought you might like having your son show you to your quarters? We'll be at Leadrat in fourteen hours. Time enough for dinner, if you're hungry?"

"Most kind, Captain."

"Sarek, call me Jim." There was something he could not read at first, then he realized it was a subdued form of...pleading. Kirk wanted him to accept him as part of Spock's life.

But when had he not been?

He did not want to call him Jim. This man, now happy with what he had so precipitously rejected, had set so many things in motion. People had been hurt because of his actions. The fact that things had resolved in such an agreeable manner was due to circumstances, not his choices.

He did not say that, however. He settled for nodding with a slight bow, an apparent acquiescence.

"I'll leave you two," Kirk said with a smile as they exited the transporter room.

Spock watched him walk away, then turned back to Sarek. "You are well, Father? And Mother?"

"Indeed, my son. Our fortunes do not hinge on whether you are or are not a part of our lives."

Spock seemed to stiffen.

"I apologize. That was...an emotional response. Your mother prospers. I do as well. We are both pleased that you have abandoned Kolinahr." But that also sounded like a rebuke. "I mean to say—"

"It is accurate, Father. I did abandon it." He started walking, indicating for Sarek to come with him. "I wish to say that I...appreciate that you came to me at Gol. I know it was an extraordinary action on your part. And, while I will no doubt tell you that my words now are due to heightened emotions after the meld with V'ger, the fact that you cared, that you came, it meant everything." He met Sarek's eyes, his own open and unguarded.

"You are my son. I...care what happens to you."

Spock's eyes were warm as he nodded. He stopped and palmed open a door. "You should be comfortable here."

"Most kind." Sarek gestured to a chair. "May we sit for a while? Talk?"

"I regret I must return to my post."

And to Kirk. And he did not sound as if he regretted that. But what had Sarek expected? That decades of discomfort between them would be overwritten now, even when his son was acting so very human? "Of course. I will see you at dinner."

Which would no doubt be an uncomfortable meal. But Amanda would have words for him if he did not at least try to be welcoming to the man Spock loved. And it was purely an emotional need on his part to want to spend time alone with his son, without this interloper, this man who had blazed a swathe of destruction through all their lives. But a man who it was obvious was not going anywhere.

Kaiidth: what is, is.

"I look forward to it," he said, the lie barely detectable in his estimation.

Spock looked untroubled, so Sarek thought it was not obvious to him, either. "As do I, Father."

##

"How's the first day?" Lori asked as she rolled a chair next to Chapel's. "Overwhelming?"

"Little bit, yeah." She'd spent the morning being read into all the many things she now had access to. Programs she had no idea existed. "And also wow."

"Welcome to the inner workings. It's a lot to take in at first. A month from now, you'll be blasé."

"If you say so." She gestured to the terminal. "I've been reading the stuff in the queue that's marked for me. It's not all medical."

"It's sure not. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you a biochemist? With a few other sciences as minors?" She grinned. "You, Lincoln, and Yang are here for a reason. Physical sciences, life sciences, and engineering all represented. Going through the reports is just one of the more mundane things we do here in Fleet Operations."

"Going through them...all?"

"Captains, for reasons both good and not so, falsify reports on ships' logs. Don't tell me you've never seen it done."

Chapel tried not to let it show on her face that she had—that it had been Lori's ex saving the reputation of her fiancé.

"Relax. We don't look into most of them. Just flag the things that look...irregular. It'll take a while at first but in no time you'll be flying through them. Nogura didn't get where he is by being surprised. But the Old Man also understands why it happens—he captained a ship or five in his day. It's five. Memorize their names. He'll bring them up at the most random times and you'll win points if you know the pertinent details."

Chapel swallowed visibly and hated that she'd made that show of nervousness.

"It's okay. Go into the file marked CYAC and open up TTK."

She did. A document named "Things to Know" opened, full of information on the ships Nogura had captained—and a lot of other information she might need about all sorts of things. "This is amazing. Does everyone get one of these?" she whispered.

"Nope. They sure don't." Lori laughed.

"CYAC?"

"Come on. It means 'Cover your ass, Chapel.'" She glanced down at her comm unit, which never seemed to stop pinging—the pace here was unreal. "Now, it's tradition to have pizza when a new member of the team reports. What's your favorite?"

"Hawaiian."

Lori rolled her eyes. "Of course it is."

"It's sweet and acidic and salty and—"

"I'm just yanking your chain. I like it too. And I'll make sure it's part of the order." She stared to roll away, but Chapel stopped her.

"Thank you. Not just for Hawaiian pizza and this amazing file. But...for rescuing me. Things have been really weird."

Lori's expression was sympathetic. "It's definitely not the way I hoped it would turn out for you or Will."

"He was such a good man."

"He was. One of the best. But we put the right man for the job into the center seat when we sent Jim out to meet V'ger. I may be annoyed as shit with him a lot of the time, but I'm not sure Will could have saved us."

Chapel wasn't sure she saw it that way, but there were so many factors that played into where her loyalties lay.

"You don't agree?"

"No, it's just—"

"I didn't bring you on to be a yes woman. You don't agree, then say so."

"A lot of what worked with V'Ger, with the Ilia copy, was Will's doing." She shrugged. "And a lot of it was Kirk's or Spock's. But Will might have gotten it done."

"Might have didn't cut it. I was part of the decision to send Jim."

So by extension she was part of the reason Chapel had been demoted, McCoy brought back—this whole crazy rollercoaster ride of downward mobility. "Oh. Wow. So did you bring me here because you feel guilty?"

"No." There was a devilish look on her face. "Who introduced you to Will in the first place? And talked you up after you went home rather than watch me and Jim fight?"

"I was exhausted."

"Details. But no. No guilt on having done what I could to put you in, or being partially responsible for you losing the posting. Life goes the way it goes. It's not whether or not we like it; it's how well we land after everything's been upended."

"I think I landed pretty damn well."

Lori laughed. "I think so too."

"So again I say thank you."

"You're welcome." She seemed about to say something else, but then paused.

"What?"

"Look, I didn't make you that file because we're friends or because I have a vested professional interest in you succeeding. I made it because I'm leaving and won't be here to mentor you after this next week. Keep that to yourself—it's not common knowledge yet." She was talking even more quietly than she had been before.

Chapel felt a rush of dismay. "I was looking forward to working with you." And to having a champion up here in this part of Command that had always seemed so far away.

"Same here. But you'll like my replacement. Admiral Cartwright's a really good guy. His selection hasn't been announced yet either, so keep that under your hat."

"Got it." She met Lori's eyes. "Will you at least be on Earth?"

"I'll be right down the hall. You're not going to get rid of me as a friend, just as a boss."

She felt a rush of relief. "Good."

##

The cafeteria was nearly empty—it was a weird hour to be eating lunch but some days Chapel had to grab food when she had a break. Nogura kept her running. Especially now that Lori was gone.

She was doing a lot more than just consulting on medical things. But then Lori had told her she would be. Lori was rarely wrong.

It wasn't the same without her in the suite. She was just down the hall, but it might as well have been worlds away given their respective schedules.

Just as she was finishing her food, she heard a small cough—_his _small cough. "Hello, Sarek," she said as she turned.

"Am I welcome?" Sarek didn't have a tray or cup or anything. "If I am not, I understand."

She gestured to the chair. "Sit. Please. My table is your table." She put a lot of bitterness in her voice and saw the words hit home.

He sat but seemed unsure what to say.

"You're speechless?"

"So it would seem."

"This whole thing seems to leave you that way."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.

"How is she?"

"She prospers. She is, of course, relieved that Spock has left Gol and returned to Starfleet."

"I'm sure."

"And you? Do you prosper?"

She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "How could I not? I'm in a fucking admiral's office. Doing important work." She leaned in. "Or is what you're really asking whether I've moved on or not?"

"It is not my business—as you will no doubt tell me if I express any interest in your personal relationships."

"Damned straight."

He still seemed to be waiting.

"Jesus, no. No, I'm not with someone. Happy?"

"Yes. And no. You deserve more. I think you want more."

"Well I had more for a hot second. More ran the hell away." She took a deep breath before anger overtook her. Or tears. Neither had any place when she was in the Starfleet cafeteria with the Vulcan ambassador.

"I did not mean to upset you," he murmured into the silence between them.

"Does she ever talk about me?" God, could she not just stop? Going down this road was ridiculous.

"Not often." He leaned in. "I wish I could tell you she did. I wish many things."

"I'm sure you do." She frowned. "How much can she feel of this? That you're with me here? That you're saying these things?"

"I am unsure. She is human and not psychically gifted so the bond for her is perhaps less...immediate than it is for a Vulcan."

She leaned in and pitched her voice low. "Then maybe she'll feel this. If she dies, Sarek, you're welcome to court me." She could feel her lips curving up in a mean smile.

"Even though I let her end things?"

"Yes, because you would do anything for your wife. I imagine you will do anything for your next one too." The words hung between them. Delineating everything Amanda had feared. Her age and that she would be replaced eventually.

But they were horrible words. And Chapel liked to think she wasn't a horrible person.

She leaned back, wanting to cut the tension. "But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's _her_ you'd do anything for. Only her, not any other woman who might happen to be your wife someday."

And as the words came out, she knew it was true. She met his eyes, trying to make her expression regretful.

His expression was also gentle.

"I will always miss you, Sarek. Both of you. But...I'm not looking backwards. I need to move on. To forget."

"I will never forget." The words were said quickly, with more emotion than she expected.

"Thank you. That's kind."

"It is not kind. It is only the truth."

"An inconvenient one."

He rose. "Yes. Most inconvenient."

##

Sarek palmed into the apartment and saw that Christine had obviously been by since the last time he and Amanda had used it. The personal items she had left behind were gone: art from the walls, knickknacks from the shelves, some of the glasses she'd used for cocktails, and he thought several of the bottles.

She was not coming back. He imagined she would be promoted soon—Admiral Nogura would see to that. She would be able to afford a better place, one with perhaps a view that pleased her.

It left him unaccountably bereft to think of this place without her.

He heard the door open and turned, seeing Amanda there, staring at him. Then her gaze turned to the empty places on the walls. "She's been here?"

"Apparently so."

She walked to bedroom, opened the door but did not go in, then turned to study the bar cart. "She took the cachaça."

He lifted an eyebrow, not understanding.

"It's nothing. She's just making it clear the past is past, I guess."

"Did you want it to be something else, my wife?"

She shook her head, her expression even and almost Vulcan. "Kaiidth." She was studying him with great intent too. "You're sad. This place makes you sad now."

He nodded. "It will not impact anything; it is simply what I feel."

She took a deep, ragged breath. "Is that why you're not telling me you saw her today?"

He had wondered if she would feel his reaction to Christine. "I am not telling you because there is nothing to tell. I saw her in the cafeteria. I thought she might need closure."

"Oh, I think she's had all the closure she can take. I think it's you who needed it."

"Perhaps." He shrugged, a gesture he only did with her.

"I'm not begrudging you that. I know it's odd, her back when we thought she was safely away." She looked around the apartment. "If she moved out, she may have cancelled the lease. We should pack up our things. This place...it's in our past."

He welcomed the idea of it no longer being a part of their life. He was tired of the double life, even if Amanda spent most of her days and nights at the embassy now.

It was time to walk away from this. Being here, with Christine, had been enjoyable—perhaps necessary for them at the time. But it was over.

He could feel his wife's resolve on that.

The door chime went off and she looked at him, "Did you order anything?"

"No." He walked to the door and was surprised to see Admiral Ciani standing there with what looked like beer and a pizza.

She was speaking as the door opened, "Okay, Chapel, so I miss you and I thought I need to eat and you need to eat and—Ambassador? I must have the wrong apartment." She backed up, looked at the number, then back at him. "I don't, actually."

"You are looking for Doctor Chapel?" He could hear Amanda coming up behind him, which was good because Ciani was looking at him the way he imagined anyone would when a married man was found in a single woman's apartment.

Ciani seemed to relax. "Oh, both of you are here."

He let Amanda step in front of him and say, "I don't believe we've met, dear."

"Lori Ciani."

He could tell she understood this was the woman Kirk had married. But he doubted Ciani could see that.

"Well, I'm Amanda, this one's wife. Him, you know, I'm sure. The famous ambassador." She was using the gentle, almost singsong tone that put so many at ease. "Christine was letting us use this place while she was gone. She's at the Visiting Officer's Quarters, I think. Starfleet's been keeping her too busy to go find a new place—I know how crazy it must get in the Admiral's office."

"Absolutely insane."

Sarek heard something in the way she said it—perhaps she was not so easily distracted by Amanda's chatter. She was looking at them both in a way that made him vaguely uncomfortable. "Did you need anything else, Admiral?"

"It's pretty clear that what I need is not here, Ambassador." She said it with a grin, but there was a note of possessiveness he found himself bristling over.

And immediately could tell she was aware he did not like her words.

"I'll let you two get back to whatever it is you were doing. I'd like to get to Christine before the beer's warm and the pizza's not."

He chose not to comment on the illogic of her words: both items were in temperature-controlled containers.

Her expression was as even as T'Pau's had ever been as she looked at him, then she turned to Amanda with a smile that reminded him of Kirk at his most charming. "Lovely to meet you."

She turned on her heel and walked away. He let the door slide closed.

"Well, perhaps our little Christine will soon be off the market and I can quit worrying that she's unhappy. The Admiral seemed quite intent on letting you know that she was interested." Amanda snaked her arms around his neck. "She didn't seem as concerned about me being part of this. Aren't people interesting in what they assume?"

"Three is perhaps harder to imagine than two."

"Oh, I imagine the Admiral has no problem imagining anything. Perhaps she saw you with Christine in the cafeteria."

"I behaved properly."

"Of course you did. You'd never dishonor me. And I'd never dishonor you. But I think Christine carved out some real estate all her own in your heart."

"But not in yours?" He pulled her closer. "Do not answer that for I already know the truth. The bond is, after all, a two-way connection."

"I know it is." She put her hand gently over his and he could feel her love and regret pouring into him. "This wasn't me at my best, Sarek. I used her."

"We both did." He took a deep breath. "I believe we will not have that opportunity in the future. I imagine Admiral Ciani defends what is hers quite fiercely."

Amanda laughed softly. "I wouldn't want to cross her. Yikes." Then she pulled him down to her, her lips gentle on his, no desperate passion. Just the connection and warmth he was used to—and at one point feared he might lose forever. "Let's go home."

##

Chapel had just changed out of her uniform and was debating whether to go down to the mess or order something up, when the chime sounded. Lori stood in the hallway, out of uniform and holding a pack of beer in a cold carrier and a pizza in a stasis unit. "Hi. I come bearing food and hooch."

"Then you're most welcome." She grinned as she moved aside, letting Lori come in and then moving again to give her access to the small kitchenette in the miniscule quarters.

"Funny thing, Chapel. I went to the address listed on the registry first."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I figured I'd get a new place and then update the records."

Lori opened the stasis unit and a heavenly smell filled the room. "Aren't you leaving out the fact that the Vulcan ambassador and his wife are for some reason in your old place?" She turned and studied her. "Funny that. Where's that fabled honesty?"

She was too tired to make up more of a story. "I told you about them. In limited detail, but I did tell you about them. My long-term houseguests."

"Ohhhh. Them? Huh." Lori frowned as if she was trying to figure something out while she opened a beer and handed it to her. "So they sublet the place to...?"

"Get some needed privacy as they worked some things out in their marriage. I worked crazy shifts when I was on Earth as you well know, and they enjoyed having that time away from official duties and everyone at them—or she did, being human. Once I was on the ship, it was just natural to keep it and let them use it. Now...I want a nicer place. Something with a view."

"Hmmm."

She decided to not give her anything back but her own, "Hmmm."

Lori stared her down, then finally shook her head, a smile starting. "So you've got lots of stuff to move out. I bet. Hope you don't plan to ask me to help you move because even with stasis movers, that's still a pain in the ass."

"It came furnished. I just put up some art and moved in. And I've moved all that out. My stuff's in storage till I find a place."

Again Lori stared her down, as if by her silence she could force her to talk—Chapel had waited out Sarek more than once; Lori was easy.

Finally she said, "That all makes sense. Until I get to the part where it's the Vulcan ambassador who's your good friend."

"Actually, it started with his wife."

Lori's look changed, as if she was putting too much together.

Chapel debated how much to say, decided to leave out as much as she could—she would protect their privacy the same way she was sure they'd protect hers. "I met them on the first mission. Sarek was ill so Amanda was in sickbay a lot. I was a nurse. Ergo..." She could see Lori was still not convinced. "I probably stood out to her because I was in love with her son."

"Ah." Lori opened a beer for herself and finally looked like that explained everything—which it sort of did.

She didn't think Amanda would have glommed onto her as a potential romantic partner if her son who'd just rejected all things human hadn't also rejected Chapel; it was probably Oedipal as fuck if she thought too much about it. So she just wouldn't think about it.

"Whatever he has, we should bottle it. Jesus. I've lived through that with Jim."

"Yeah. But I'm over him." That at least she could say without having to lie. She was over Spock. Finally. Getting over his parents—well, that might take a little longer. "I'm not sure Jim ever was."

"Primarily because he wasn't willing to admit he was even interested. Until it was too late. Well, they're together now."

Chapel conceded with a nod. She'd watched it all happen, after all, in sickbay and elsewhere on the ship before she'd fled. They'd been discreet, but if you knew what to look for...

"So if you're not in love with a Vulcan—or his wife. Don't give me that look, Chapel. You told me you were with a woman and you get damned cautious when you talk about her. Anyway, since you're not with her—or them."

"I never said..."

"I get it. It's complicated. So let's forget it. What isn't complicated is this: are you available now or not?" Lori was watching her with a hopeful—almost uncertain—smile that Chapel wasn't sure she'd seen before.

It charmed her. "Seems like."

"Amazingly, I am too."

"Interesting."

"I think so too." Lori held out her bottle. "Here's to...new beginnings."

"I'll drink to that." She tapped her bottle against Lori's gently, then turned to the pizza. "Mmm, Hawaiian. You remembered."

"I remember everything you like."

"If I didn't find you so much fun to be around, that would be very creepy."

"I know." Laughing, Lori let her dish up some pizza, then they carried it to the small couch. "This is from my favorite pizza place. Nothing but the best for you, Chrissy."

Chapel started to laugh. "Nobody calls me that and lives."

"Then if I did—in private, anyway—it would be our thing."

"There won't be any us if I kill you for calling me that."

"I survived Jim Kirk, kid. You'll be a piece of cake." Lori laughed. "And just for the record, wherever else we end up taking this relationship, I really, really like you. I miss working with you."

"I miss you too." She felt something tight inside herself finally ease —something she'd probably been holding onto since the lovers she'd thought might be everything to her abandoned her, since Will and her future disappeared. "Does this mean you're done with that admiral you were with before I left?"

"Finnegan?" Lori started to laugh. "I was just hanging out with him to tick Jim off because he hates him. Turns out, I should have trusted Jim's instincts. Finnegan's an ass. I really need to let go of my anger at my ex."

"Sometimes it feels good to hold onto that."

"You're right. But, I'm done with it. You know what else I'm done with?"

"Do tell." She took a bite of the pizza and moaned—it was soooo good.

"Term marriages. The next time, it's going to be a real one. But that means I need to take my time. Make sure the person and I are compatible in all the ways that matter, not just good in bed."

Chapel met her eyes; Lori's were very soft. "Nothing wrong with taking your time."

"No?"

"Nope. Nothing at all."

"I'm so glad you're back on Earth." Lori reached out, touching her face and Chapel leaned into her hand. "So, can I call you Chrissy?"

"Oh, fine."

Lori laughed. "You're putty in my hands."

"Mmm hmmmm." She concentrated on the pizza, not Lori, the same way she used to do with Roger when he thought he could mold her. She might be agreeable, but she wasn't a doormat.

She thought it might be very similar to how Amanda interacted with Sarek—quietly getting her way. It might have pissed her off before to think that. But sitting here, with this vibrant woman who liked her simply for herself, she found she could live with it.

##

Sarek heard the soft knock of T'Sanya at his office door. "Enter."

"Sir, there's a Starfleet doctor here to see you. She asked for your wife also. Shall I get her?"

"No need. I will take her in. Give me a moment."

A moment to send Amanda a text message that said, "Christine is here. We are on our way." Then he walked out and saw Christine studying a painting.

"I didn't notice this when I was here before," she murmured as he joined her. "It's beautiful."

"It is one of my favorites."

"Amanda's too?"

"No."

She made a sound he couldn't read.

"You wished to see us both?" At her nod, he indicated for her to come with him. They did not talk as he led her to the salon in their private chambers.

Amanda was sitting in a chair reading when he entered. She looked up as if surprised. "Christine?"

"Hi." She seemed uncertain.

"Please. Sit." He gestured toward another of the chairs.

It took her a moment, but she finally sat. "I said some cruel things the other day to you." She looked at him, her smile regretful. Then she turned to Amanda. "But I don't want to be cruel. So I came to tell you in person I've let the apartment go. You have a week to clear your stuff out. Hopefully that's enough?"

His wife did not feign surprise. "It is."

"Okay, good." She stood quickly.

"Darling, wait." Amanda stood slowly, moving carefully, and he was unsure what she had planned.

"Oh no. You can't possibly think... Darling? Seriously?"

"I called you that before anything happened. It's my way. And...I miss my friend. I miss you." She looked at Sarek. "And he misses you too."

He could feel regret flooding the bond, could feel her love for Christine, as well. He imagined she could feel the same things from him. It was illogical, since they were walking away from intimacy with Christine, but emotions often were.

"Too bad. I'm with someone now."

"Ciani," he said, feeling again the surge of territoriality. He felt it from his wife too.

"Yes. Lori. So, I'm not doing this again."

"And I'm not asking you to. If you're happy, then so am I."

"And I as well."

Amanda smiled gently. "Would you sit? Please?" She waited until Christine was settled again. "Can we try again? To be friends. Nothing more. And friends in the open, not just in your apartment. Part of our real life, not only in the refuge you gave us."

"Why?"

"Because she wants you in our life, Christine. Because I can feel how much she regrets the hurt she caused." He didn't think he was reaching her so he changed to more human terms. "Because she loves you."

"And so does he. We just...we could have expressed it differently than we did. We could have done so much better by you." She knelt in front of her. "You were nothing but kind to me. Nothing but giving. I want you back. My friend. The only friend I trusted with my pain."

Christine was silent for a very long time. Then, in a small voice, she said, "You hurt me so much."

"I know. And I'll spend a lifetime making that up to you. Proving that you can trust us as friends—as family. We will never hurt you again. We will always be there for you."

Christine looked at him, tears bright in her eyes.

He suddenly, desperately wanted her to understand how serious his wife was. "As she says, Christine. You are our family—in our lives, and our hearts, forever."

"Such a human way to put it." But she was touched; he could tell.

"As two of the three of us are human, it seemed appropriate."

She laughed, not the bitter laugh he did not care for. This was a sound of surrender. Of helpless amusement.

"Stay for dinner, darling. Let's catch up."

There was less hesitation this time. "One dinner. That's all I'm agreeing to. We'll see how it goes after that."

He could feel his wife's joy through the bond; he only wished he could let Christine feel it too.

A meld might—but no. Too intimate. He must not force this, must not try to control this.

She was letting them back in. They must allow her to dictate the pace.

##

Christine lay back, enjoying the way the light came in through the blinds bathing the bedroom in golden strips. She loved her new apartment.

And she loved the woman lazing next to her. Some of the dappled light played over her skin, over her hips and thighs. She reached out and touched down lightly, in the way she loved—in a way Lori loved too.

"Chapel, keep doing that and I may never let you out of this bed."

They'd waited. Longer than she thought either of them usually did. They'd waited until they were sure there was enough that was compatible between them.

And the sex had been amazing. She was very glad that she'd had her time with Amanda, to play and explore and be ready for this. She could look back on it without so much pain, with even some gratitude.

Then again that was made easier by the fact that Amanda and Sarek were working so hard at being just friends. They had her over frequently to the embassy, brought back the most amazing presents from missions offworld. She reached for the candied flowers from the last mission they'd been on and let it melt in her mouth.

"Those are from Bendara." Lori reached over and snagged one.

"Yep."

"Sarek was just there."

"They both were." She tried to keep her tone light. "I told you. We're friends."

"Right." Lori's voice was tight. "You ever going to trust me with what really happened?"

Chapel studied her. She looked hurt. Not acting at it, but really feeling it. "Lori, you mean the world to me."

"But..." She rolled her eyes.

"There's no but. You do—you really, really do—mean the world to me. You've been in my corner since you met me. So yeah, if you want to know, I'll tell you. I've protected them. But this is my story too. And if protecting them is going to make you question whether you can trust me, then I don't want to protect them anymore."

Lori's smile was luminous, but then she turned more serious. "Why do you need to protect them?"

Chapel smiled, amazed that after everything that had happened she could say this and really mean it, "Because they're family." She was about to say more but Lori held up her hand.

"All I need to know is if it's over. They're pretty good to you. I don't know if you realize how much these yummy flowers cost."

"It's over. But they're friends. They're going to be in my life." Again, words she never thought she'd say. But it felt so good to say them. It felt good to not be hurt and angry at them—especially at Amanda.

"Okay." She took another of the flowers. "It means everything that you'd tell me. But you don't need to. Protect them. That's what you do. I know you'll protect me the same way."

"I will. I always will."

Lori pulled her down, her kisses tasting of the flowers, and the wine they'd been drinking, and everything she'd ever wanted.

"I love you, Lori."

"I love you too, Chrissy."

She laughed at the name. "Aaarrghh."

Lori pushed her over to her back and crawled on top. "Like you mind. You adore having something that's just ours."

"You're not wrong." She moaned as Lori kissed her way down her body.

Then she stopped. "If they're family. I want to meet them."

"For real?"

"Yes. Because you're my family, so then they are too. I want to see them through your eyes."

"Okay. Sarek's offworld again, but we can start with Amanda. Drinks maybe?"

"Drinks it is." She went back to what she was doing.

What she was doing so, so, so very well.

##

Amanda watched as Spock and Jim sat by the fountain. Jim was laughing and Spock's expression was so light, so...happy.

Not human. Never that. And she was fine with him being true to himself. He'd found a balance finally. He could be Vulcan and love.

Jim saw her and waved her toward them. "I'm monopolizing him and I shouldn't."

She sat and put her arm around his waist. "Oh, sweetheart, it's fine."

He leaned against her. "No, it's not. I'm going to go unpack. You can have your son all to yourself." He rose and touched Spock's cheek gently before leaving them alone.

She moved closer to her boy and he surprised her by reaching for her hand, holding it the way Sarek often did, hidden by his robe. "Are you happy, Spock?"

"I am."

Two such wonderful words. "I'm so glad."

"I hurt you. I regret that deeply."

"You hurt your father too. Never think he doesn't care about you." The fact that Sarek had gone along with everything that had happened was proof of that. He'd lost his child—the child he'd never worried about abandoning him the way he'd forced Sybok to. And then he'd been in danger of losing her.

So he'd followed her to Christine's and into the mess she caused.

A mess he was now helping her clean up and transform into what it should have been all along. "We're having lunch guests tomorrow."

"Then Jim and I will occupy ourselves. Do not concern yourself."

"You misunderstand me. We, all four of us, are having them." She took a deep, steadying breath. "While you were gone, I...I did not handle things well. I needed time away from this place. Your father was kind, indulgent even, and allowed me the freedom to, well, grieve for you in my own way."

"I regret that you needed to grieve."

"I don't. Because I got to know someone very well. Christine took me in."

"Christine...Chapel?"

"Yes."

He looked utterly confused. "You stayed with her?"

"Yes. She's my friend." Marvelous and strange as that was, she was her friend again.

"And you have invited her to lunch?"

"I have. I know she left the ship quickly when Jim was given permanent command. I imagine there may be awkwardness between them. Or for you." She began to laugh. "Actually more for him. Because I've invited the woman she's seeing."

He only looked more confused.

"She's involved with Lori—Admiral Ciani." Someone she found delightful, someone who made Christine very happy.

Someone she thought would never hurt her.

"Do you know she is Jim's ex-wife?"

"Of course I do. But...it was a term marriage, wasn't it? He's happy with you now. She's happy with Christine. We'll be one big happy family."

He seemed unsure what to say.

"All right we'll be one big, slightly dysfunctional, happy family. But Spock, she's family to us now. And I want her to be part of all of our lives. Not just when you and Jim are on the ship. I feel very strongly about Christine."

"She has always been a woman of fine character."

"Yes." And many other amazing attributes. But he didn't need to know that.

He seemed to consider, then nodded slowly. "As I was gone, I can see how she might have made an appealing foster daughter."

"Exactly." Her sweet innocent boy. He'd never realize what his parents had been up to. She knew Christine wouldn't give it away.

Except perhaps to Lori, who'd exchanged a look with Amanda that made her think she knew some of what had happened.

And didn't care. Unless Amanda tried to reach for too much. Then she'd very much care.

Amanda had been irritated at first that Christine might have told her lover about what had happened. But Christine wouldn't have done that lightly. She'd been so careful during and after their relationship. If she trusted Lori with this, Amanda would have to as well.

And Lori looked like a woman who could keep a secret.

"I am not sure—" Spock sighed. "Jim may not be comfortable with this."

"Which is why I'm telling you first. So you can prep him before tomorrow. I trust you have ways to get what you want?"

He still looked uncertain.

"Spock, this means the world to me." She glared just a little at him. The face of the mother he'd abandoned. The face of the woman who'd thought she'd lost the best part of herself with him gone.

And he surrendered, just as he used to when he was a child. Because he loved her. Because he was her son—half human, after all. "Then it will mean the world to me as well, Mother."

She stroked his cheek, so very grateful that he would allow it, that he was not still at Gol, not lost to her. "That's my good boy."

FIN

Just some things you might want to know:

1\. I don't watch _Discovery._ So there is no Michael in this and anything discovered in that show about Sarek and Amanda's relationship is not included here.

2\. I know there's a deleted scene from the first reboot movie where Spock broaches the subject that he might go to Gol and Amanda is totally chill. I don't buy it. Also, since it was never aired, it's not canon. But mostly, I don't buy it.

3\. The issue of Lori Ciani. Did she exist? And if so, didn't she die in the transporter accident in ST:TMP? Well, no. A woman did die but Lori is _not_ canon. The woman who died with Sonak is never identified in dialogue or in the credits. Lori Ciani's existence, term marriage to Kirk, and death on the transporter was presented in the novelization of the movie. Which, yes, was written by Roddenberry. But still is not technically canon—so I take what I like of it and ignore the rest. For the _Strange New Worlds_ contest, run by Simon & Schuster and Viacom (aka the owners of the franchise), only what was filmed in live-action movies or television was considered canon. Not the animated series, and not the books (pro fic, which often contradict each other if laid out together, or novelizations). (Which yes, means I'm ignoring canon by not watching/including _Discovery_. But I'm up front about it LOL)

4\. When I started this, all I wanted to do was try a Sarek/Amanda/Chapel threesome. A happy little story exploring this near-sacred couple, who I've never really done this way (with Amanda having POV and/or not dying/dead) and their iconic love, and giving them a willing plaything (who was supposed to be the same badass Chapel I usually do but ended up a bit different here, a bit softer). You know, a fun story with a happy ending.

Yeah, my muse _was_ laughing at me—you know her too well. So I got this. Lori Ciani however feels that I more than made up for the way I've treated her over the years—she was not supposed to be in this much at all and ran away with her parts. Kirk is pissed and wants a Kirk/Chapel fic where he's not such a dick. Sarek and Amanda seem fine with it. Chapel doesn't care what I have her do as long as she gets to be a headliner. And Spock sneakily got "Captive Audience" in while I was arguing with the muse over why couldn't this just be a fun outing, so he's fine with how things turned out. Also he got the guy and didn't have to do much LOL.

Again, thank you for reading.


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